Wishful Thinking
by Devilish Kurumi
Summary: Amarant has nothing to do, so the Fates drops off an unexpected burden and expects him to handle it for them. INSIDE: swearing, fighting, destruction, dancing, and a bit of slash. AmarantKuja. COMPLETED.
1. Wishful, Thinking Of You

A/N: So I like just beat the game. And I'm like totally in love with Amarant. You all seem to like him somewhat too, with all the Amarant/Freya I've been seeing. (Bravo, I was glad I wasn't the only one to see it!) But there's a dreadful lack of Amarantslash – especially since him and Zidane were so totally digging each other.

Anyways, this has nothing to do with Zidane/Amarant. I just wanted to write this.

Updates will be sporadic. You might get a few more chapters of this before I go silent for months – just look at my SSX or Invader Zim fics! Oh well. Review and tell me what you think about my idea.

* * *

Amarant Coral is drunk out of his mind. 

Not an uncommon occurrence, really, but it's still a worthwhile thing to note. He's been staying at a crappy little village in the crappy Forgotten Continent, in the middle of a crappy desert. The sun is too hot and the nights are too cold, so he's having trouble adjusting. He knows he's going to leave soon, because the weather just doesn't favor him.

So, Amarant is drunk in a crappy little bar at the very edge of night, in the middle of his fifteenth ale, when a feeble little guy comes up to him and tells him, "That's _my_ seat."

"I don't see your name on it," the bounty hunter grumbles, not wanting a fight but feeling it coming.

"Do you want a fight?" the man asks, voice supposed to be low and dangerous but just sounding pathetic.

"Not really. Go away, kid."

"I'm going to get you for that one!" the kid growls, and suddenly there's a hand over his drink.

"I think you best step outside," the barkeep mutters to Amarant, because the kid is obviously popular in the village and Amarant isn't.

"...Whatever." So he downs the drink quickly, gets up, and leaves without paying. The barkeep is shouting after him, so he turns and throws a fist at the first person available.

That first person is the barkeep, who flies back into the bar, door slamming shut. There must be pandemonium inside, but Amarant is already stalking away, towards the inn.

His vision is considerably blurred and doubled, and so he's not quite sure who he's seeing stumble towards him, but if he didn't know better... No, he knows better. He steadies his pace, puts his hands in his pockets, and gains back his cool, calm exterior, sure that he must be hallucinating.

The figure stumbles into him, barely coming up to his shoulders, makes a noise, and practically rolls to the side in surprise. Amarant, too, is surprised – the hallucination isn't a hallucination at all. He wants to take a fighting stance but doesn't have the mind to do it.

"I know you," he growls instead, turning and crossing his arms. The male is tiny – much smaller than he was the last time he saw him – and looks pale even by his standards. His hair is tangled and ratty, dirt on his fine silk clothes and chest heaving.

"..." The male doesn't respond. Maybe Amarant _is_ hallucinating.

"Kuja."

"Y...I know you...?" The tiny little guy looks dazed, like an chocobo who just ran off the side of a cliff without realizing it. "I... I _know_ you."

"Yeah, I'm the guy who kicked your ass." Smartass comments against insane madmen who can blow up the world. That's a smart move, there, Coral.

"Where... Zidane?"

"He isn't here," the bounty hunter mutters, annoyed. It's always about Zidane. Kuja is staring at him, confused.

"But... isn't..." He shakes his head, the movement causing his whole body to shudder. "I'm thirsty."

"I'll bet you are," Amarant mutters, "You planning on blowing up the world again?"

"What? Oh... no, no..." Kuja laughs, almost hesitantly, a definitely different laugh than he had before. "I'm far... much too... can't concentrate..."

He collapses and it's only the bounty hunter's instinct that catches him before he hits the ground.

It's not in Amarant's nature to forgive. He isn't Zidane – he doesn't just forget about previous conflicts and pretend they never happened. And Kuja is obviously weak – he should be strong enough to blow Gaia into tiny shards, but he looks like a little porcelain doll that Eiko threw around too much. He could probably crush the Genome's neck if he wanted to. But he's in no mind to think about killing. And besides, it's against his nature to kill something that can't fight back.

And didn't he already kill Kuja, anyways? He distinctly remembered throwing a Rune Blade at him. That hadn't looked good – even the red fur hadn't been able to hide the blood.

"Goddamn, Zidane. You've fucking softened me up." Amarant easily scoops the porcelain death angel into his arms and stalks to the inn – fifteen ales and he can still tell the inn from the brothel.

The innkeeper looks at him but doesn't say a word – he probably thinks Kuja's one of the whores, and that almost makes Amarant laugh.

He settles Kuja down on the bed, frowning in annoyance. He has some potions, but he is saving those for his next venture out into the wild. Grumbling, he grabs one from the dresser and leans over Kuja, tilting his head up and practically forcing the potion down his throat.

The Genome gags, and then wearily opens his eyes. They look dull and bleary. "Wh...What happened...?"

"Hmph. You collapsed." Amarant snorts, "I thought you were stronger than that."

"I...I am. I'm... not...?"

"Make up your damned mind. Either you're still strong or you're not. Careful, though," he sneers, "The wrong answer might lead me to breaking your neck now."

"...I am powerful – don't... you're talking to me wrong."

"I'm talking to you just fine, considering you wanted to blow up my planet, scumbag."

"...no, no, not... not that. Mm, everything's warped. You talk wrong. It's all upside-down backwards and flip-flopped."

"You're the one who's talking wrong. You're insane."

Amarant's growing a little worried. He's already moved as far as the wall will allow him, but the Genome is talking strangely and saying things that don't make sense. Not to mention the fact that there's still just a little bit of coherency left... as if he understands himself but doesn't understand at the same time.

"Something's wrong – is he alright? Must be... couldn't live without him..."

"You sound like you're hot for your brother."

"I could make you suffer."

The first thing Kuja's said that sounds like himself. It startles Amarant. Kuja struggles off of the bed, stands shakily, and says it again. "I could make you suffer."

Amarant doesn't back down. "Try me."

Kuja stumbled forward, and drops to his knees, but snarls, glaring at Amarant angrily. "I can make you suffer!" he shouts.

Amarant yawns.

"K...Kill me before I make you regret your life!"

Now Amarant has to blink, frowning thoughtfully. "That's the game, huh?" he mutters to himself.

"K-Kill me now or I'll m-make you suffer!"

"How should I kill you?" he asks, pacing forward and grabbing Kuja by the hair. The Genome yelps but keeps glaring. "Short and fast, to show my appreciation, or long and slow to show you how much I _care_?"

"Kill..."

Amarant snorts, "Careful, you might start sounding like the Black Mages you hate."

"I can't... Kill me now – I don't... don't care how!" Kuja throws himself against Amarant, shoving him forcefully. He's weak, alright, but there's still the remnants of power, and magic crackles dully from his fingertips. "Kill me _now,_ goddamn you! I'm supposed to die!"

"I think all you're _going_ to do is be a little bitch and whine about how I won't kill you. Sit your ass down before you hurt yourself." Amarant shoves the silver-haired male onto the bed, reassured when the other flops onto it helplessly. "Damned monkeys..."

He goes to the door and peers out into the hallway, catching sight of a moogle heading down the steps, dressed in a ridiculous spotted cape.

"Hey, you." The animal – fairy, whatever – stops and turns, looking at Amarant in curiosity.

"Hello, kupo?"

"Where you heading?" The moogle looks at the bounty hunter curiously.

"Alexandria, eventually."

"Perfect. C'mere for a minute. I want you to give someone a letter."

He lets the moogle in, and Kuja stares at it in confusion. Amarant writes a clumsy note down and folds it up, handing it to the moogle. "Can you give that to Zidane?"

"Zidane!" Kuja exclaims, sitting up as the moogle says the same.

"I know him!" the animal exclaims, "Sure, I'll make sure he gets it." The moogle grabs the letter and lets himself out as Kuja stars at Amarant incredulously.

"What are you doing!"

"I'm sending a letter to Zidane, telling him you're alive..." He frowns, rubs his chin and says as an afterthought, "And that I'm gonna take you back to him eventually. He's probably going to want to see you."

"To kill me?"

Dear god, the kid sounds hopeful. "I doubt it." And he looks unhappy at the thought. That's probably not good. "Why do you want to die so badly?"

"Why don't you want me to die?"

A perfectly logical question. Amarant snorts, "I want you to die, I just don't kill things that are so much weaker than I am."

"I am not weak!" Kuja growls, starting to get up again, but suddenly thinking better of it and laying back down. "I'm... I'm not weak...?"

"Yes you are. Now shut up. You're giving me a headache."

There is a few moments of silence. Then...

"I'm thirsty."

"I'll bet," the bounty hunter growls, "What do you want me to do, get you something?" No answer. It's not a yes, or a no, but Amarant feels a little guilty – and a little more angry with a certain monkey-tailed thief. "What do you want?"

Kuja raises his head and looks at the bounty hunter in confusion, before sighing. "Wine," he murmurs. Amarant groans.

"Do I look like someone who has that shit on me?"

"No," Kuja responds, just as quiet as before, "I don't mind." Moments later, "May... May I use your shower?"

"Whatever. Just don't collapse again – I'm _not_ coming in to get you."

Kuja gets up, stumbles his way to the bathroom, and leans heavily against the door. "I...I'm...sorry." His voice is small and very quiet, and Amarant almost doesn't catch it. When he turns to look at the Genome, he is already in the bathroom, door closed behind him. For some reason, the apology doesn't sit well with him, and he begins to pace.

He realizes after the shower starts that pacing is useless, and settles into bed, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head. He hasn't slept in a day or two, but he doesn't think he can now.

A strangled scream jerks him out of his blank dozing, and he sits up, frowning in annoyance. He's not going in there – no fucking way.

The air around him crackles with a sudden power, and he jumps from the bed, making it to the door in only two or three steps, he isn't sure. He grabs the knob and turns it, suddenly thrown back as a wave of power hits him. He stands, and makes the moves back to the door, staring in surprise.

Kuja is floating in the middle of the room, eyes wide and looking above blindly. The roof is being ripped from the walls and energy crackles around him.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Amarant shouts, and Kuja tries to get his eyes to focus on the bounty hunter.

"_Stop me!_" he screams, "_I can't see! Stop me! I don't want to die!_"

Amarant does the one thing he does best – he punches Kuja in the jaw, knocking his head to the side.

Kuja cries out, and Amarant hisses when the energy burns him. "_Don't let me die,_" the Genome whispers, starting to glow. "_I can't stop..._"

"Goddamn it," Amarant draws back, and grabs a sword from the corner – a silly little thing he bought in case he needed it – and throws it, watching it slice through Kuja's bare chest and leave a long, angry gash.

Kuja suddenly gasps, and his hair flickers to silver, and then back to red, before settling on silver. He slumps to the ground, fur disappearing as quickly as it appeared. There is a flash of light, and he's out of trance, shaking in the corner of the shower that pours steam into the sky.

"What the _hell_ are you _thinking_!" Amarant shouts, stalking to Kuja and grabbing him by the throat. He doesn't respond, and so the huge man shakes the tiny one, furious.

"C-Can't control... I can't control it," he whispers suddenly, gazing blindly at Amarant. His eyes are still red, and he looks tense. "I'm trying to _hold it_ back, _but it's_... hard... If I _go back_ to it _I'll die_... _everyone will die..._"

"We need to get out of here," Amarant growls, and puts Kuja down, looking for something to let Kuja wear. He settles on a huge dark cloak, throwing it to the Genome, who puts it on with shaky hands, eyes wide and watching Amarant gather everything he can. "Come on," he mutters, and Kuja follows him, stumbling.

They exit the inn with only a minor confused conversation with the innkeeper, and Amarant grabs Kuja, pulling him up into his arms and taking off in a mad dash.

"P-P_lea_se, I don't _want to anymore_.. Tell _it to _stop!"

"I'm not telling your crazy powers to do anything," the bounty hunter hisses, and they're far enough away from civilization. "You don't have to worry right now. Go ahead."

Kuja shakes his head, grabbing Amarant's arm. "No...!"

"You're going to have to, one way or another – it's just going to explode later, when we're in Alexandria, maybe?"

Kuja screams and Amarant is knocked back on his ass, thrown a few hundred feet from the man, who's suddenly blazing red and staring at him malevolently.

"_Why are you making me do this!_" he shouts, and Amarant is forced to stay down in case he gets hit by the power. Maybe they aren't far enough away.

"You need to calm _yourself_ down, you crazy bastard. Me punching you just makes you stronger."

"_I c-can't control it!_"

"Yes you sure as hell can. You made yourself trance, now undo it!"

"_I... I'm trying...!_"

Suddenly, he stops all movement. Even the air is frozen, and he stares at Amarant with dull red eyes.

"_Everyone is going to die. I cannot stop._" He's glowing again, raising too high in the air for Amarant to reach him...

"Kuja!" the bounty hunter shouts, "Do you want to die!"

"_...No...?_" His voice echoes in the air and his own insecurity shows.

"Then calm yourself down!"

Kuja looks down at him, eyes narrowed.

"_Do not try to stop me, you pathetic... no – no no no!_" Kuja grabs his head and closes his eyes, "_Calm down – calm down..._"

"You don't have to worry," Amarant says slowly, "You can take your time out here. Just don't hurt yourself."

"_You don't care_."

"I care about myself, and if you go off, I'm fried."

Kuja moans, chest heaving. "_I'm trying – it's so hard. I'm so strong – you are nothing but why do I want to kill you? It would only end my life and I don't want to die._"

"Come down here, relax. We'll go to Alexandria and you can see Zidane, and he can help you." And then Amarant won't have to worry about his head being blown up.

"_Zidane can't help me_." His hair flickers briefly, and he slowly lets himself down to the ground, hair finally settling on silver. He looks at Amarant, out of trance, wrapped up in the much too large cloak, and breathes heavily.

"Do you have it under control?" the bounty hunter asks, crossing his arms. What he wouldn't give for something to lean on.

"I blew up a part of the Iifa Tree, just to get out." The confession is hallow and calm. "I woke up and Zidane was gone. And I couldn't move, but then it came back... And I blew up the tree."

"How long ago?" Amarant asks, slowly coming closer, in case he goes off again.

"...A week and a half, two weeks, maybe?"

"And you've been wandering around the desert since then?" Kuja nods and Amarant growls, before looking around at the emptiness. There's a forest due west, he knows, but he doesn't think they can get there right now. He comes up to Kuja and sits down, legs crossed, and stares through his hair at the tiny little guy. "Should've said something sooner," he grumbles, and pulls out his satchel, pulling out a battered canteen and handing it to the Genome. "It's just water, don't get your hopes up."

"I don't have any hopes," Kuja murmurs, taking the canteen and almost drowning himself. He leaves some for Amarant, however, in a vaguely kind gesture. "I... Are you sure you won't kill me?"

"Goddamn, you runty little bastard," Amarant growls, "You just got through telling me you didn't want to die. You're really indecisive."

"I don't know what I want."

"That's pretty damned obvious." Amarant sighs and looks up at the sky. "Get some rest. We'll head to Conde Petie tomorrow, and take an airship to Alexandria."

"I can't go to Alexandria like this!" Kuja suddenly exclaims, blinking, "I'm not even really wearing _clothes_, and my hair is ruined..."

"Oh, for god's sake, are you a damned woman or something?" Amarant growls, frowning at the Genome, who stares at him incredulously. "Just get some sleep. We'll worry about your crap in the morning."

And Amarant lays down and falls asleep.

* * *

He wakes up feeling warmth next to him. It takes a few minutes for Amarant to remember what's happened, since those fifteen drinks have taken a slight toll on his poor head. He rubs bleary eyes with a massive hand and blinks, looking at Kuja in confusion. The tiny guy is curled in the huge cloak, as close to the bounty hunter as he can be without actually touching him. He thinks briefly of shoving him away, because the guy is too close for comfort, but then thinks a little longer on it. The Genome looks like a bad replica of his former self – his face is drawn and uncomfortable, and his hair is distinctly messy. And it's been a long ass time since anyone's actually gotten close to him by choice, and not because they were on the receiving end of his fists... He sits up a little and reaches out. "Kuja." 

The name is so strange. He never thought he'd use it again. He had been so sure that he had died, and here he is. The Genome stirs and rises into a sitting position as easily as a cat would.

"I...Morning, then?"

"You look better." It's not a compliment, or a happy note, just an observation made with a dry voice.

"I feel better. I haven't slept in a very long time."

"Come on," the bounty hunter grumbles, getting to his feet. He really does feel a lot larger – almost too big compared to the tiny monkey. He digs through his satchel and pulls out some gyshal greens, looking around in mild annoyance.

"What are those?" Kuja asks, confused, as he stands as well. Amarant shrugs.

"Chocobo bait," he replies as a far off sound responds to the strong smell the plant gives off. Kuja watches him as he stands completely still, gazing steadily into the distance. The sound repeats, louder, and Kuja blinks as a huge bird comes towards them, running so fast it's almost a blur. Amarant smirks as the Chocobo comes to a skidding stop, looking at Amarant with wide eyes. He moves forward, and the bird hesitates, until he holds out the greens.

"W...Why?"

Amarant snorts, and he puts a large hand on the Chocobo's head, stroking the feathers easily. "Would you rather take two extra days and end up fighting lots of wild beasts?" At Kuja's confused gaze, he nearly laughs, "What, have you _never_ seen a Chocobo before?"

"Not... not so close up."

"Shit, you really should get out more." The Chocobo is big, even by Amarant's standards, but he has a feeling it wouldn't be able to hold them both. He shrugs, and looks at Kuja. "Get the hell on, we're going to Conde Petie."

"...It's safe to ride?"

Amarant chuckles, "You think a Chocobo's gonna hurt you? Holy hell, you can blow up the planet and you're afraid of a giant bird."

"I use more _elegant_ forms of transportation," the Genome stutters in indignation, crossing his arms. He doesn't look at all menacing in an oversized cloak, and Amarant shakes his head, pointing to the bird.

"Get on," he says, and before the monkey can protest, he picks him up and puts him on the Chocobo's back, sitting sideways. "Hold on to him tight," he says, and Kuja bites his lip.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm leading him. I can run practically as fast as he can, after all." With that, he pets the bird one last time, having a quick stare down with it, and then takes off running. Kuja yelps when the bird follows quickly, but gets a good grip on some feathers and holds on.

* * *

Amarant wants desperately to laugh at Kuja's expression as he slides shakily off the Chocobo, but manages to keep a cool position, crossing his arms and smirking. The bird looks a little tired, but it crows in satisfaction – it has all rights to, since it beat Amarant in their little race. 

Kuja watches Amarant suddenly grin and go to the bird, petting its neck casually. He mutters something lowly to the bird, and laughs when it crows again – it's almost surreal, watching such a giant, callous man talk to the animal like they're sharing a private joke. Amarant gives the Chocobo another bit of greens and then lets it go running back towards the forest.

"We'll go in and get on the next airship off of this stupid continent," Amarant growls as he paces back to Kuja, who stares at him in mild curiosity. "What?"

"...I don't know."

Amarant shrugs and starts across the vines, heading towards the village. When they enter, there is no greeting – he's been here so often they don't even bother anymore. "When's the next airship leaving?"

"Innabut twen'y, thir'y minues," a dwarf nearby responds, frowning, "Y'best 'urry."

"Yeah, I figured that much. Come on," Amarant growls to Kuja, motioning for him to follow as he winds through the bustling market hall, towards the newly erected ticket booth. "We need two tickets for the next airship."

"A'hm. Th's abut one 'undr'd gil, per ticket." Amarant snorts and practically throws the money down, before taking the tickets and heading back outside. The ship is just a stone throw away, and Amarant looks at Kuja. "People might recognize you."

"Mm..?"

"Put the hood up, you fool," the bounty hunter mumbles, and Kuja does so, face only visible if you looked the right way. Amarant doesn't look, and passes the tickets to the dwarf who is preparing the ship.

There's not many people on board – this is a cargo ship, but they obviously allow passengers often enough to have rooms. Kuja looks around in mild surprise, because the layout seems different than how it should. Amarant notices his head turning often, and frowns. "They changed from Mist to steam a couple of months ago. They can lay the ship out differently now."

"So strange..."

Amarant lets Kuja wander as the ship departs, deciding to stay on deck and watch the scenery fade to spots. They get higher quicker now, with steam engines. He leans against the wall, and crosses his arms – Alexandria isn't too far away, and then he can ditch Kuja and get the hell out of there.

Kuja comes back towards him after about a half an hour, talking with a dwarf who is obviously flying for pleasure, and he's smiling. Amarant puts himself on guard – that smile looks too devilish to be good for him.

"Oh, um, yes." Kuja is looking at him curiously, and he realizes he doesn't know Amarant's name. "Did you know where this ship was heading, exactly, when we boarded?"

"...No. I assumed it was heading to Alexandria."

Kuja grins brightly. "Assuming is so careless. We're not going to Alexandria."

Amarant frowns, and growls, "Then where, exactly, are we going? Keep in mind I'm already in a bad mood from having to cart your ass all around."

Kuja claps his hands together as the dwarf moves on in fear of the bounty hunter. "Why, we're going to Treno!"

Amarant's reaction is instantaneous. "_What!_"

Kuja is still grinning, "Oh, Alexandria hasn't been accepting airships for a few months now! They're only accessible over land. So, we're going to Treno!"

"This is just _great_. I'm stuck with you, and I'll probably end up seeing Lani."

"Who's Lani?" Kuja asks, blinking thoughtfully, "That sounds so familiar. Oh, I don't even know your name."

"So?"

"Well, I can hardly keep dodging around your name!" Yeah, Kuja certainly looks a lot better than he did yesterday. "We'll be in the city of nobles – why, I know half of them! I can hardly introduce you if you're going to be nameless."

"You're not introducing me to anyone. We'll take a Chocobo to Alexandria right when we land."

Kuja frowns, "But it'll be dark. We'll be tired. And I'll have to buy new clothing... I'm not going to spend the rest of my days walking around in _cotton_."

The monkey actually looks aghast at the very idea. It pisses Amarant off, but he has a point. Kuja probably has money stashed somewhere, and he does look pretty stupid walking around in a big cloak. And Lani would probably find out he ditched her to go to Alexandria, and then he'd get hunted down by her. All in all, he has no choice, and finally nods reluctantly. "Fine, we'll stay there for a night. But we're _going_ to Alexandria, whether you like it or not."

"I'll be fine with it, so long as I have something nice to wear. Now, what's your name?"

"...Call me whatever you want – it won't matter in a couple of days."

Kuja sighs, frustrated, "What does Zidane call you?"

"...Amarant."

Kuja nods, frowning. "It sounds vaguely familiar. Oh well. Well, I'll see you in a little bit, Amarant, I'm going to go look about some more." He walks off, murmuring about the interesting mechanics behind steam engines, and Amarant blinks. His face is warm.

Kuja says his name strangely.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for any OOC you might encounter. First time writing proper Kuja and first time writing Amarant at all. It's depressing, really. 


	2. Living For A Day In Your World

A/N: Almost 10 pages. Yay. I don't care if they're OOC at all, but Amarant – hopefully – is less and Kuja... well, Kuja can never be properly IC so I don't care. BLAAHHH to all of you who do! Besides, if he were IC all the way, he'd never get this far.

((PS, band mentioned in here is a SUPERSECRET band that only a few people might recognize!))

* * *

Kuja is too hyper as he disembarks the aircraft, practically exuding energy. Amarant stalks after him, annoyed and a bit worried that he might go trance again and kill everyone.

But no, Kuja is simply looking around the city in recognition, probably remembering things that he had done before he almost died. Really died. He forces back the shivers crawling up his spine.

"And I thought you wouldn't show your face in Treno ever again." Amarant turns and raises an eyebrow behind his hair, looking at Lani in vague annoyance. Kuja comes up to the huge man's side, and she grins, "Who's the girl?"

Amarant snorts, and Kuja makes a strangled noise in his throat. "I'm not a girl!" he exclaims, and pushes his hood back. Lani blinks and then looks at Amarant in confusion.

"I could've sworn you only chased skirts."

Kuja cackles, and if Amarant wasn't so annoyed he would have noticed how familiar the laugh is.

"I'm taking him to Alexandria." Lani knows him better than anyone, and he hopes she understands he wants Kuja _gone_.

"You're not going like _that_," the other bounty hunter immediately deadpans, looking at Kuja, who crosses his arms and – oh, yes, Amarant has to turn away before he laughs – pouts.

"I would change if _he_ would let me _go_ somewhere."

"Want me to take him out for a while?" she immediately asks Amarant, who gives her a look that distinctly resembles one of a helpless animal.

"...Whatever."

"Great!" Lani exclaims, suddenly grinning, "I know just who to go to for your hair. Goddamn, Amarant, don't you let people _bathe_ when you're escorting them somewhere?"

"Hn." Amarant turns and stalks off – he needs to relocate the tavern he used to frequent and have a few more drinks. And he's starting to get hungry, anyways. He hears Kuja talking to Lani about something, and then he laughs and they head the opposite direction – most likely going to get money.

Suddenly, he feels his pocket in curiosity, and swears suddenly, turning to look for the two, but they're long gone. "Fucking monkey stole my money," he growls, and turns back to look for the tavern. He has some spare gil in his other pocket, enough for a few drinks and a big meal. He'll get that damned little guy if it's the last thing he does.

Amarant stalks around the circular pathway, taking note that nothing has really changed. Then again, it's only been a few months. The kids are still playing their little card game, Gilgamesh is still wandering around trying to pick a fight with Amarant but being too cowardly... All in all, it's so similar that he's almost surprised to find the tavern under new ownership. He smirks – good, now he won't have to worry about his tab. He enters the bar and immediately feels at home.

He almost forgets Kuja is alive.

* * *

Kuja comes into the bar just as Amarant gets his second helping of food. It's been a few hours, but Amarant has always liked taking his time eating.

"Amarant," Kuja says, and the bounty hunter looks up briefly, before choking on his drink.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he asks, because it's a valid question. He's all purples and reds and blacks, with flowing sleeves and lots of netlike material. The boots are loose and black, adorned with red jewels that probably cost a lot of money, and though his legs are bare, one has a strange type of brace made out of black and red leather straps. He still wears a skirt – that was probably a habit he wasn't going to break – that is short in front but drapes down and flows in the back, a deep, rich purple that glows in the light. A really strange silver pendant hangs on a loose belt that serves no purpose but to be gaudy, and his shirt... god, what had possessed him?

He's wearing red straps winding all around his chest, only slightly concealing a netlike, sleeveless shirt. No, no, it has sleeves, but they are connected only loosely with more black straps, and they flow around his arms, a strange mixture of purples that catches in the light. It must all be silk, Amarant realizes in surprise, and it must cost a lot.

His hair is perfect once again – that obnoxious feather like bang sticks out again instead of drooping, and his face is covered in makeup. It's strange – his deep purple eye makeup blended with deep red makes him look more like a man than he did without it.

"Do you like it?" Kuja asks cheerily as Lani comes up beside the ex-homicidal monkey, grinning as easily as she had just spent Amarant's money.

Oh, wait.

"You better not have spent all my money," he growls. Kuja smirks.

"Of course not, sugar daddy. Just _most_ of it." He tosses the considerably smaller purse to Amarant, who makes a very menacing noise as he catches it. Lani hears the noise and excuses herself quickly. As soon as she's gone, Kuja takes out another purse and gives it to Amarant, sitting down across from him. "Why would I spend your money? I just wanted to see if you'd notice. Zidane always has such an easy time stealing... I wanted to try it."

"Don't do it again," Amarant growls, exchanging the purses before settling back in his chair. "Order something, you're already getting weird enough looks," he mutters, before taking up a huge leg of some kind of beast and tearing into it viciously.

Kuja watches him in dull horror, and Amarant makes sure he's extra violent, baring his fangs and ripping the meat off the bone and gnashing his teeth a little more, and he feels a bit of satisfaction in being able to creep Kuja out so easily.

"You're absolutely _beastly_," the Genome intones flatly, and Amarant grins, licking his lips.

"That's what the girls say just before I bed them," he sneers, taking up the large tankard in one hand – it can wrap easily around it – and drinking deeply. "Have a nice girls night out, by the way?"

"I think you're forgetting exactly who I _am_," Kuja drawls, signaling a barmaid over and ordering some simple salad or some such.

"I'm talking to a woman, apparently. What's that muck on your face?" Amarant responds easily, before biting into some bread.

"It's called makeup," he answers, "You could do with some."

Amarant chuckles as he chews, and shakes his head, smirking. "That would do wonders for my reputation."

Kuja blinks and then snaps his fingers – dear god, his fingers are manicured and painted red on one hand and purple on the other.

"I nearly forgot. We got something for you," he says, and pulls a tiny little package out of who knows where, waving a hand dismissively when the barmaid puts his salad in front of him. He holds out the package with both hands, and Amarant reluctantly accepts it with one of his own.

He unwraps it under the table, annoyed at the idea of a present – especially from Lani and this crazy man. Obviously it was clothing – it was a soft package – but what would they get him that would be so...?

"...You're fucking _kidding_, right?"

"What? Of course not!" Kuja exclaims in annoyance, pouting again. "It's very good armor, it's enchanted. You won't be able to burn it or pierce it with a blade, magic is severely weakened against it, and it's actually very beautifully made. You should be glad we thought of you."

He feels the fabric cautiously, not believing that the tiny little shirt could protect him from anything that the man had just said. It was a thin, leather tank top with that same netted material stretched over the front – like a vest with netting.

"You can't honestly expect me to wear this."

Kuja gazes at him, picking at his food idly, and explains, seriously, "It wasn't enchanted when I bought it. I got it for the specific reason that you are traveling with me, and considering my current... state... tends to fluctuate rather drastically, I thought you should have something that would protect you."

Amarant stares at Kuja and realizes that the Genome is actually thinking to _protect_ him. This worries the bounty hunter greatly.

"How much did it cost to get it enchanted?" he asks, because he should probably pay the money back.

"More than you will ever earn," Kuja murmurs, staring at him so that Amarant feels a bit like a mouse caught under a cat's gaze. "For the time you are escorting me to see Zidane, I'd prefer you in one piece. It might not be a shirt you would wear," he adds, a smile coming to his lips, "But it would look very nice on you."

Amarant finishes his food in contemplation. He has been so caught up in the idea of getting rid of Kuja that he forgot that he was the one who first took him on this whole journey. And instead of being fed up with his constantly aggressive behavior, Kuja spends... more than he can earn, just to keep him protected.

He really thought Kuja was still the bad guy.

"We should get some sleep," he finally decides as Kuja finishes his tiny little salad. "We've got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow." Kuja nods and stands as well, and Amarant gets two keys for two rooms, handing one to Kuja.

"You just wasted a hundred gil," the Genome says, "These rooms have double beds."

"I don't want to sleep in the same room as you." Kuja almost looks hurt and Amarant almost feels guilty. "I don't like sleeping in the same room as other people."

Kuja pretends to understand, and Amarant still feels almost guilty. "I'm not very good with people," the bounty hunter finally mutters, scratching his head and leaning against the door to his room.

"I noticed that," Kuja notes dryly, and he enters his own room, slamming the door easily behind himself.

Amarant shrugs his massive shoulders and ducks into his own room. He prays that the roof will still be there when he awakes.

* * *

Amarant wakes up way too late in the morning – so late it's not even the morning anymore – and swears, nearly falling out of bed. The monkey probably decided to sleep in too – probably doesn't really want to see Zidane yet. He doesn't blame him, but what else can he do?

The bounty hunter gets up, rubbing his eyes and heading to the pile of clothes on the floor. He dresses, and stops halfway on putting his old shirt on.

"More than I can earn," he mutters, staring at the thin leather shirt. "Oh, what he hell."

He pulls on the shirt Kuja bought and looks in the mirror as he heads out. He looks _huge_.

Kuja is sitting downstairs, eating a salad and talking to – oh, shit. He makes a move to head back upstairs but Lani catches him in her eyes.

"Wow," she says as he reluctantly comes forward.

"I told you," Kuja sighs, looking at Amarant with easy eyes, "I know how these things work."

"So I owe you a hundred gil. I'm surprised he put it on of his own free will."

"I'm right here," Amarant grunts, falling easily into one of the small chairs. Lani grins at him, and Kuja flashes a brief smile as well. He feels awkward. "'s too small."

"Of course you'd think that," the Genome laughs, "After wearing those baggy clothes for so long, clothes that fit you must feel tiny."

"He doesn't need tight clothes," Lani grins, "He gets plenty of girls with or without them."

Amarant smirks, and motions to the barmaid. Kuja makes an annoyed noise. "A lot of foolish girls is nothing compared to one _smart_ one." He's picking up a book that's been unnoticed. Amarant orders a lot of meat and bread.

"Point out one smart girl in Treno," Amarant chuckles, and Lani hits him – hard – on the shoulder. "What? You can't take offense to that."

"I'm smarter than _you_, you great big oaf."

"You're a fool."

Kuja watches the exchange over the top of his book, and the barmaid comes back with the food piled on a large tray. Amarant eats decidedly less viciously – it's too early and he's in a good mood.

Lani and Kuja are talking about something stupid and Amarant is surprised they can get along. Lani is exaggerated and annoying and simple, where Kuja is elegant and slight and too complicated for Amarant to understand. He's like a refined version of Zidane. Zidane gets along with everyone.

Maybe that's why.

* * *

"We're going to Alexandria today," Amarant growls when Lani leaves to go talk to a man about a dog. Kuja pouts and Amarant snorts.

"Must we? I don't..." Kuja sighs, and leans in, looking at the bounty hunter with the same serious look as last night. "I don't want to see Zidane in Alexandria."

"Then where _do _you want to see him?"

"Preferably? In pictures, while I'm on the other side of Gaia." The bounty hunter leans against the wall of the Armory, looking at Kuja in annoyance. "Don't get me wrong – I want to talk to him, want to see him, but I... How long has it been?"

"A few months."

"It feels like years." The Genome bites his lip. Amarant looks away. "I don't want to lose control like-"

"You still havin' trouble?" There's a bad feeling in his stomach.

"It's harder to control it at the moment, or last night. Can't we take more time? He certainly hasn't gotten that letter yet, and I don't want a repeat of my last visit to Alexandria." Despite calm words and cool facial expressions, the bad feeling grows and Amarant can see Kuja's got it too.

"...Whatever. Fine," he clarifies, "We can stay here for a while. You can get back into the swing of..."

"Living?"

"Yeah."

Kuja doesn't look uncomfortable with the fact that he has died. Amarant wonders why – and wonders for the first time _how_ he could have been revived. Hadn't Zidane said something about the dirt being soft enough for...?

Oh.

He makes a note to be a little easier on Kuja for now.

* * *

Amarant stalks the streets, hands in his pockets, watching people skirt around him nervously. He regrets nothing – getting up and leaving Lani and Kuja without a word is the best thing he's done all day. The two were getting _too_ annoying. Shopping, plays, social gatherings – it's enough to make his head hurt.

So they won't be going to Alexandria now. Amarant wonders why he's playing babysitter to Kuja, but then remembers that the monkey can blow up the planet and has little control over himself. He sighs, and looks at the sky – it's darker now and he should probably be getting back. He's not tired but he's worried that Lani might get too involved in what's going on, and then he'd _never_ be rid of her.

He reaches the inn in good time, and walks in, expecting to see Kuja and Lani blathering on about stupid things.

Kuja and Lani are not there.

He goes to the bar and leans over, looking for a barman or someone who has knowledge of the patrons here.

"Can I help you?"

The tiny little barmaid from earlier is coming up to him, and Amarant flashes her a feral grin. She giggles in a nervous, particularly cute fashion. "Y'know where those two girls here earlier went?"

"Oh," the girl giggles again, "You mean Mr. Kuja and Miss Lani?"

"Hah, mister, huh?" He crosses his arms, "They let you know where they'd be?"

"No, but I think I overheard..." Meaning she eavesdropped, "That they were going to the warehouses."

Amarant furrows his eyebrows and frowns. "She took Kuja to the _warehouses_?"

"That's what I thought, at first," the girl says, suddenly getting bolder, "He was so rich looking, I thought it was... But then Miss Lani took him upstairs and when they came back..."

"Didn't look so rich?" The girl nods, and he thanks her gruffly, before heading out. She's cute, but she's so _tiny_.

Amarant makes his way around the circular town, heading directly for the warehouses. Calling them warehouses is like calling Treno the City of Nobles – it worked on paper and probably applied once upon a time, but now it holds no meaning. They used to house new shipments of potions, ore, and weapons, but since the city was overrun with thieves, they've become more of a meeting spot for lowlifes. And Kuja, anywhere near cutthroats and pickpockets? What was Lani _thinking_?

He opens the doors and is met with loud, raucous music. He remembers coming here every so often with Lani to scope out the newest bounties and newest bounty hunters, and a few prospective bedmates. He can hardly see with the smoke in the air, and it smells like alcohol and galenas smoke.

The song is jumpy and it's meant only for dancing, and that's what most everyone is doing – spinning and jumping and looking like absolute fools.

He sees Kuja dancing with Lani and stops all movement.

The monkey is wearing a black leather vest and strange white pants tucked into high black boots. His hair is tied back into a braid and the only makeup he's wearing is coal smeared around his eyes – something popular with a lot of the lower class girls nowadays. The guy knows how to dance, even though this is probably the least regal and noble music ever, with two girls blathering on about dancing like some prostitute they know. Kuja spins Lani and they're laughing. He looks more like a guy than ever, and Amarant dares to think that the lower class clothing suits him better. Maybe that's just because he's Zidane's brother.

Gilgamesh bumps into him but he's so high he doesn't even recognize The Flaming Amarant and simply laughs, moving on to talk to some pretty girl he has no chance with – no matter how many arms he has.

The song ends to uproarious laughter and applause, and the girls are laughing and chattering like monkeys. Lani suddenly notices him and waves, pulling Kuja along with her.

"Amarant!" she laughs, "I didn't think _you'd_ show up _here_."

"Are you stupid?" the bounty hunter growls, "Kuja's too high class for this crap."

"I am _not_," Kuja complains, crossing his arms and pouting.

"You don't give this guy enough credit." Lani suddenly catches sight of someone over to the left of Amarant and leers. "You can take him out of here if he lets you. I have to go talk to someone."

She walks away, swinging her hips in a way that should be illegal, heading towards a hapless, foppish pick pocket.

"We're going," Amarant grunts, and starts for the door, but Kuja grabs his wrist, grinning.

"No, we're not. This is fun, I like it. Come on, Amarant, let's stay!"

He wishes he wouldn't talk like a girl, and that he wouldn't roll the 'r' in his name so much.

"You're a fool."

"Perhaps, but I'd rather be a merry fool than a miserable genius. Now come on, I want you to buy me the most alcoholic drink here and make sure I drink it all."

Amarant feels stupid in his stupid shirt, but girls are ogling him and Kuja is pleading for _just one drink_ – and hell, has Amarant _ever_ turned down the chance for a drink?

"...Fine," he grumbles, "Just one." Kuja grins and drags him through the crowd of people to the makeshift bar where the alcohol is being 'sold' unless you have really big fists.

Amarant has the largest fists in Treno, so his drinks are free. And one drink for Kuja is two for Amarant, and then Kuja has another, so he has two more, and then there's another one for Kuja so that makes two more for him, what does it make? Oh, about ten for him and too much for Kuja.

The girls on stage have been getting stranger and stranger and now they're starting up a very happy song – probably Cleyran but maybe it's Burmecian... It's about two people who can't dance dancing. Completely pointless, and not at all entertaining.

"Dance with me!" Kuja laughs, and Amarant realizes he's probably pretty drunk right now.

Not saying Amarant himself _isn't_, but he's had more than ten drinks and come out alive.

"I'm not dancing," Amarant mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Kuja pouts again, more exaggerated now that he's drunk enough to not care.

"Dance with me!" he demands, sounding like a child.

"I don't dance," he growls, looking at the flickering lanterns all over, giving the floor a glow that seems rather ethereal.

"Oh, yes you do. Come on, let's go be merry damned fools!"

"You're off your mind."

Kuja giggles, reaffirming Amarant's suspicions. "I told you I wanted the most alcoholic drink here and you _gave_ it to me! What did you expect? I'm so small!" He's laughing openly now, and he suddenly reaches over and dislodges Amarant's crossed arms, grabbing his hands and pulling towards the floor. "Hurry, the song might end and then we'll have to drink until the next good one plays!"

Amarant feels his feet moving before he can remind them exactly _what_ they're doing to his reputation, but no one is paying him attention. Most of them are drunk or high, and the only one with any sense about her is Lani, and she's flirting viciously with two men at once.

Kuja has successfully dragged Amarant out to the floor and is now swaying a little, positioning his hands. "Oh, come on, can't you dance at all?"

"I don't dance."

Kuja pouts, and then pushes moves onto Amarant, who has to follow if he doesn't want to trip up on Kuja and fall flat on his face. Kuja laughs and suddenly they're dancing – _holy hell,_ Amarant realizes, _I'm dancing with Kuja._

The song is winding down, but suddenly the girls pick back up and burst into another song, and Amarant knows the beat, even if the song is in a different language. He suddenly realizes with only mild trepidation that _he's_ the one leading all of a sudden. Kuja is laughing and even he knows the song, but he knows the words in the language and he's mouthing them, trying to keep up with the rest of the crowd.

Kuja spins and Amarant catches, and Kuja's hands are on his hips and his are on Kuja's and they sway to the song, fast and easy, and it keeps going through Amarant's mind in little bits – _dancing with Kuja_, followed by _Kuja was dead_, followed by _never drinking again_. The last thought is a dirty lie but that's okay, he's lied about it before.

He hears something and realizes in slight annoyance that he's laughing at Kuja, who's doing some kind of drunken dance against him. The song slows; Kuja slips, and it's only Amarant's instincts that keep him from falling to the ground right at the last note of the song.

"Perfect timing to fall, wouldn't you say?" Kuja asks, grinning lopsidedly. Amarant flushes, and they're slowly released from the floor and to the outer edges, where people sit in corners sharing pipes. "That was _fun_," the Genome exclaims, falling against Amarant, "But now I don't think I'm standing."

Amarant chuckles against his will. "You're not."

"I've never had this much to drink before," Kuja confesses, "I like trying to not make an ass of myself."

"Fine job," Amarant agrees, "Ready to go?"

"Should we say goodbye to Lani?"

Amarant looks and sees her dancing with the nicer looking of the two guys from before. "I think she's busy."

Kuja giggles rather stupidly at Lani before grabbing Amarant's hand. "Okay, I'll go now."

"Finally," Amarant mumbles, and he leads Kuja through the crowd to the door, nervously aware of how much smaller Kuja's hand is compared to his own. He's too much of a girl for his own good, Amarant decides, and he's not going to keep acting like he is. Maybe if he doesn't, Lani will stop, and the guy will act a little more like he should.

They're walking around the card arena, and Kuja is looking at everything closer than usual. "You had fun, right?" he asks, suddenly, and Amarant looks over his shoulder at the Genome, who he hasn't let go of.

"...Mn." Kuja grins and must know what that means, when suddenly he frowns and stops. Amarant, consequently, stops as well. "What?"

"I'm not going up those steps," Kuja groans, pointing to the long staircase up to the next ring, where the inn is. "Can't we sit down here for a little bit?"

"You're _that_ drunk?"

"I just danced with you, didn't I?"

"That hurts," Amarant drawls, sitting down on the lawn. Kuja flops down next to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he replies honestly. Amarant chuckles.

"I was being sarcastic."

"I'm drunk, do you think I can tell?"

Amarant can, but then again he's bigger and has a better tolerance for Treno liquor.

They sit in silence for a while, and Amarant stares at the stars. They've probably fucked him over, but he doesn't really care at the moment.

Suddenly, hands are entangled in his hair, and he blinks, looking at Kuja in confusion. The Genome's eyes are narrowed in concentration.

"I don't like knotty hair."

"My hair's _supposed_ t' be knotted."

"Yes, but I like your hair. Do you mind?"

Amarant doesn't. It's not intrusive to him, not when he's already danced with the monkey. He shakes his head and Kuja laughs softly – not like the laugh on Terra but not like the laugh from two nights ago, when he first ran into him... it's definitely better than both.

Kuja tugs on his hair a little he leans to the side, before laying down like Kuja's signaling for him to. Kuja's chest is rising and falling, and he can hear his breath – he's not a zombie, then. That's good. He feels the Genome's hands work through his hair and he makes a small noise before he realizes what he's doing and stops the sound before it can actually become the purr it wants to be.

He's comfortable for the first time in a long while. It's a combination of alcohol and Kuja's hands, and he can feel himself dozing off, hoping that Zidane never gets his letter...

* * *

In Soviet Russia, Fanfic Reviews You! 


	3. Plucking Violin Strings

A/N: Oh, damn, I forgot to mention last chapter, but Amarant's shirt that Kuja bought him was inspired by this dude on DeviantArt – io9. Go take a gander, it's in his scraps and it's the most beautiful thing EVER.

The plot, the plot! It rears it's ugly head!

* * *

Amarant usually wakes up within seconds and can have his hands around somebody's neck within an even smaller time span, but tonight when he wakes, it's slow and easy – he's still drunk, but not as much, and someone has their hands resting in his hair. There's soft laughter and a few hoarser chuckles, and there's the smell of smoke in the air. He opens his eyes and grunts as he sits up, stretching.

"You fell asleep," Kuja explains, as if Amarant didn't already know. The bounty hunter looks over his shoulder at the Genome, and is surprised to see Gilgamesh and another stupid cutthroat with a bit of a better personality sitting on either side of Kuja. "You know Gilgamesh and Arok?"

"Never had the _pleasure_," Amarant rolls the word and makes sure it's obvious he doesn't give a shit. Because he doesn't. He does know Gilgamesh but only in passing.

"You should lay back down and sleep some more," Gilgamesh crows, grinning lecherously, "We weren't doin' nothin' to put you on your best."

"I don't trust cutthroats," he responds, but he does lay back down. The two lowlifes smell like drugs and he has a feeling he should just relax for now. He can level them in moments if he needs to. Kuja immediately goes back to messing with his hair – not altogether an unpleasant thing but still awkward with other people around.

"Like I was sayin'," Arok starts up again, words loose, easy, and slurred, "I didn' esspect y't' be so highclass. Yer dancin' witthin the Flam'n' Am'rant 'n all – imagine y' bein' a right near noble!"

"It was all Lani's idea," Kuja confesses, voice also loose but still retaining most of its elegance – no amount of liquor could take that away from the Genome. "I didn't expect to be out tonight."

"Lani's a crazy bitch," Gilgamesh drawls, "Chases after me all the time."

"Y' wish," Arok cackles. "S'prized y'd say it 'round th' Flam'n' Am'rant, though – props."

"Oh, he's still awake?" Kuja asks. Amarant doesn't feel awake.

"Well, 'oly shit, lookit the time. 'S best we start headin' towards home."

"Smart idea," Giglamesh agrees, and Amarant hears them stand up. Kuja's hands stop momentarily, but continue their ministrations again moments later.

"Have a good... oh, what would it be?" Kuja shrugs – Amarant feels it – and finishes, "See you again, perhaps."

"Y'should come back t' th' warehouses next ev'nin'!" Arok exclaims, "Y'k'n meet the gang."

"Sounds entertaining. Maybe," Kuja throws the answer into the air, letting it spin. Arok laughs and the two head away, heading west by the sounds of their feet. "Are you really awake?"

"Mn."

"I suppose we should start going back? It's been a while." Amarant opens his eyes and Kuja's leaning over him, smiling easily and drunkenly. "The party just got done. They invited us for tomorrow night – or would it be tonight, I wonder? Either way, they invited us back."

"You don't need an invitation," Amarant grumbles. Kuja laughs a little, a repeat of a few hours prior.

"Still, it's nice to have one. I like feeling invited, instead of intervening. I'm surprised you didn't attack Gilgamesh for calling Lani crazy."

"She _is_. And a bitch."

"She is _not_." Kuja doesn't take offense, but he tugs lightly on Amarant's hair. "Remember who you're talking to."

"A crazy monkey with a love for world destruction?"

"Low blow."

"I fight dirty."

It seems easy enough to fight like this, even with Kuja. The bounty hunter wonders if Kuja was like this before he died – before he was assured of his mortality. He knew the guy was nuts, (killing someone slowly to show his love?) but was he always...?

"-dance again with you." Kuja has been talking, and the bounty hunter blinks, catching only the end but knowing the beginning.

"I don't dance." Kuja waves his free hand.

"You're _magnificent_. Then again, I am – was? No, am – probably too drunk to tell the difference between horrible and magnificent anymore."

"Makes me feel better." Kuja's pants are soft and his hands are too – not calloused like his own and twice as dexterous.

"I'd... hm." Kuja is mulling over words and Amarant doesn't really mind, so long as he keeps – _oh_ wow.

"Nngh," the bounty hunter suddenly groans, rolling his shoulders. Kuja is grinning again, dilemma forgotten for the moment, and again presses against a tense spot at the top of his neck. Amarant bends his head to the side and Kuja kneads the muscles on his neck, again thinking.

"I'd like, mm, to thank you," Kuja finally says, hands moving along Amarant's huge shoulders, "For getting me out of that desert."

"Not my intention," Amarant grumbles, "But y'welcome." Kuja smiles and takes it flawlessly. They spend a long while sitting there – Kuja massaging Amarant's shoulders and Amarant enjoying the attention he's realized he's been needing for a while.

"I think I can make it up those stairs now," he hears the Genome murmur, and nods, suddenly pulling out of Kuja's grasp and getting up.

"C'mon. You're going to have the worst headache in the morning."

"But it _is_ the morning."

"You know what I mean." Kuja is still sitting and with a sigh, Amarant holds out a hand, helping him up.

The two stumble up the stairs – Amarant's stumbling because Kuja's stumbling because he's drunk. Maybe an hour or so has passed since he fell asleep, but it feels like longer. The alcohol has been stewing so he's a little less drunk than before, but Kuja's still drunk so he still feels it himself.

They make their unsteady way to the inn, and climb the stairs, receiving vaguely distressed looks from the tiny little barmaid, to whom Amarant flashes a grin. He leans against his door and watches Kuja fumble through pockets and hair, frowning.

"Well..." Kuja laughs, "This is strange. I don't seem to have my key."

Amarant makes a questioning noise, then leans over the banister, looking down at the barmaid who's cleaning up. "Hey, girly, got 'n extra key for my friend's room?"

She looks up, perplexed. "We only keep one of each."

"Well, damn," the bounty hunter grumbles, digging into his pocket and pulling out his own key. "Mmn, c'mn."

Kuja follows Amarant in and blinks as the bounty hunter clicks the door shut and heads to the dresser, pulling the small shirt over his head and tossing it onto the dresser.

"Um?"

Amarant turns, and nearly smirks – Kuja's blushing pink around the edges, looking obviously confused.

"You can sleep on the floor, can't you?"

"_What_!" Kuja's flushing now, eyes wide in surprise. "Are you kidding!"

"No," Amarant responds gruffly, "You lost your key – I'm not going to suffer on the floor because you can't keep a hold of a little metal."

"Do you have any idea who you're telling to sleep on the floor?"

Amarant sits on the bed and pulls off his shoes, grinning slightly. "A little bitch, apparently."

"I could kill you with a snap of my fingers!" Kuja exclaims, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"I could snap your neck in half the time. _And_ you're drunk. Do you honestly think you could cast _anything_ proper with your mind addled with booze?"

Kuja can see this won't work, so he switches tactics. "It's _cold_, and _hard_."

"I'm weeping for you," Amarant responds dryly before throwing one of the two blankets on the bed at Kuja. Then, with the precision Amarant usually uses in battle, the bounty hunter slings a pillow at the Genome, hitting him smack in the face.

The monkey throws the pillow back – himself firmly attached. Amarant grabs for him, but the monkey's deceptively fast; he dodges the other's huge hands and ducks under the thicker cover Amarant's saved for himself.

"Hey, get out!" the bounty hunter exclaims, getting up to draw the blankets off of Kuja.

This has always been a fatal mistake when trying to get someone out of your bed. Amarant doesn't know this because he rarely tries to do such a thing.

Kuja almost immediately spread himself out as much as possible across the top, changing from a stupid fucking monkey into a goddamned cat.

"Oh, for the love of... Get _off_, you damned monkey."

"'msleepin'."

Kuja looks the part – he's stretched out, sure, but it's a casual, rag-doll kind of spread that makes him look as if he hasn't a bone in his body. His braid is coming undone slowly and his tail is swishing lazily, and hell, he looks like a woman.

He can't bring himself to shove the smaller male out of bed and so he sighs, grabbing a pillow in annoyance and going to the blanket he had thrown moments before.

_Stupid, double personality, fuckin' cat monkey_. Swears run along his mind while he sits down in a huff, alcohol adding a few stupid insults. _Girly little bastard, crazy rutting fool – all curves no brains, just like damned Lani, absolutely stupid_-

"...Amarant?" Kuja's looking at the bounty hunter curiously.

"What?" he asks roughly, refusing to act like he just lost a battle – which he has.

"...I'm sorry for taking the bed."

"You gonna give it back?"

"No."

"Then don't apologize." Amarant means it – he doesn't _really_ care – he's slept on worse before, after all. Kuja looks sleepy anyways, and he's going to be up for a while yet, thinking when he shouldn't be. Kuja nods in understanding and yawns, curling up under the blanket and falling to sleep completely clothed.

Amarant is awake and has thoughts, a dangerous and annoying combination for him.

Kuja is a killer.

Kuja died.

Kuja's alive again.

Kuja's strong again.

Kuja's got girl hips and boy eyes and he can laugh, but it doesn't sound frightened, tired, or insane – it sounds almost like Zidane's laugh but more refined, more... more important.

Kuja can even dance – he can dance to music that only lowlifes dance to and he sounds like only the nobles sound. He'd have a huge bounty on his head if he had survived before. Something seems inherently off, though – something doesn't fit, doesn't work.

He wonders if maybe Kuja came back wrong. But that would be impossible. Then again, it would be impossible for someone to come back at all. And then there's the fact that Kuja's trying so hard to be different from how he used to be that it doesn't seem like he's even trying.

Maybe he's not.

He _is_ Zidane's brother, even if it's not because of parents or blood – maybe he spent so long watching Zidane that he understands how to act. Maybe he really is faking, waiting until Amarant takes him to Alexandria, where he can destroy everything in one last showdown.

He's thinking too hard. It makes his head hurt.

He closes his eyes and closes his mind, refusing to hear any more thoughts on the matter for tonight

He slips into sleep and doesn't think of Kuja until he dreams.

* * *

Amarant doesn't do much when he has a hangover. It's not that he never gets them or that they're not so bad – they can usually be related to a man punching him in the face with his own weapons. He's just used to pain.

But he knows how it feels for your first time, especially with a lot to drink. When he wakes up and hears Kuja groaning sleepily under sheets, he gets up and heads to the bathroom. He fills one of the wooden mugs they leave with water, and goes to the bed. "Get up."

"No," Kuja replies plaintively, "Not until my head stops hurting."

"It won't stop hurting if you don't get up," Amarant growls, and when Kuja looks at him in annoyance, he pushes the water in his face. "Drink that. I'll go get some coffee."

Kuja takes the mug and drinks it down quickly, and Amarant heads downstairs.

It seems like Kuja isn't the only one suffering; at least five or six people are hunched over water, fruit, or coffee, all in pain. He sees the barmaid and she waves to him, a blot of happy in a big picture of hangover. "Good morning, Mr. Amarant," she says, and he comes to the bar, leaning against it and watching her serve another hapless soul some coffee, "Did you need something?"

"I need to take a pitcher of coffee upstairs," he responds, looking around, and then adds, "And probably something to eat."

"Oh, is Mr. Kuja not feeling well?" she asks, going to get one of the empty pitchers, "He didn't look very happy this morning, but I figured he was getting over it himself."

"He was down this morning?" Amarant asks, curious, and the girl nods, handing him a full pitcher.

"Let me get some fruit – he was talking to Moko. He's the moogle who stays here all the time," she explains and Amarant frowns thoughtfully. She brings back the fruit and blinks at his curious expression. "Didn't you know?"

"...No. Hm, thanks. How much?" The girl blushes prettily and giggles in a completely foolish way. She is pretty cute.

"It's on the house, Mr. Amarant," she blushes, and he grins.

"Thanks," he chuckles, taking the tray with one hand and the pitcher with the other, heading back upstairs. Why would Kuja talk with a moogle? Especially when he looks like shit?

He enters the room again and Kuja hasn't moved. "Here," he drawls, tossing some strange fruit from Burmecia to the Genome, who doesn't quite catch it and ends up leaning over the bed to get it. "That'll help."

They eat the fruit in relative silence, and Kuja drinks a lot of coffee. Amarant decides that he won't ask Kuja about the moogle – why does he care? He probably sent a letter to Zidane, worried that the other letter got through. Strange people did strange things.

"I want to go back again," Kuja finally says, looking a lot better. The coal around his eyes was smeared, and his hair was fussed and knotted, but he looked better.

"You're a fool."

"I want to dance with you again," Kuja clarifies, flushing pink, "It was the most fun I've had in my life."

"Being drunk usually makes you think something you're doing is fun," Amarant grumbles, "And I won't dance again."

"I'll have to get you more drunk, then?" Kuja almost sounds hopeful, damn it.

"I'm not dancing."

"Well, you'll have to come with me anyways – I'm going, and you're my escort, aren't you?"

"I'm your _babysitter_," the bounty hunter growls, "I don't see why you like those stupid lowlifes so much."

"They're a lot better than the nobles here," Kuja responds airily, attempting to unknot his hair with his fingers. "They're all so... I don't like being like them."

"You _used_ to."

"I used to do a lot of things I don't want to do anymore," Kuja mutters, getting out of bed. He goes to the bathroom and closes the door, and moments later he can hear the bath running.

"Damned stupid monkey," Amarant mutters, and gets dressed. He has a feeling the day is going to be a long one.

* * *

Amarant reminds himself he needs to listen to his instincts more often. It's only two in the afternoon and it already feels like it's been a year. Kuja's been making meaningless stops to stupid nobles, introducing him as "My Escort To Alexandria" Amarant. The nobles don't know him well, so he's alright with this, but the idea of being someone's escort is demeaning.

The Genome is also stopping constantly to get new things – clothes, soaps, and other useless stuff that Amarant can't believe he'd waste money on. He doesn't acknowledge the fact that Kuja knows what he's doing, and how Kuja looks good in each and every thing he buys; he just knows it's stupid to look so good.

"Would Lani like these?" Kuja asks, holding up some gaudy earrings with expensive looking red stones dangling from the hoops.

"She'd never wear them. They serve no purpose."

"Nonsense," Kuja laughs, "I'd get them enchanted so they'd be just as useful as the shirt you're wearing. What's something she might need? Magic, obviously, but I wonder how well they'd be able to absorb elements?"

"Why would you buy her something like that?" Amarant asks, half annoyed, half curious. "You could easily buy her some simple little ring or some sort. It'd save you money."

"They'd look good on her," the Genome responds, "And besides... what use do I have for money? Eventually I'll die – for good – and then it'll rot away in my secret vaults. Why keep it?"

It's the first bit of Kuja Amarant doesn't need to analyze because it's already open to him. He realizes why his shirt cost so much, why he's buying stupid soaps and clothes and hair things...

"She'd like them," he mutters, and Kuja nods, smiling as he pays for them with huge pouches of gil. He knows somewhere along the line, Lani will sell them for money for food and potions, but he won't tell Kuja that. Besides, Kuja would probably be okay with it – so long as it helped her.

"I'll take some of this to my compatriot later," he confides in Amarant, grinning, "I bought something else for you, I might add."

"Stop it," Amarant growls, and he's sure he's not blushing.

"Why? You don't like it?" Kuja asks, looking mildly hurt.

Amarant doesn't admit to it consciously, but he does. He likes Kuja buying him expensive crap, he likes Kuja saying thank you and apologizing for stealing the bed, he likes Kuja messing around with his hair, and – hell's bells – he likes Kuja dancing with him.

He doesn't admit to it to himself, much less to Kuja, so he simply shrugs. "I don't think it's useful."

"It doesn't need to be _useful_," Kuja exclaims, shaking his head, "It just needs to be _nice_. If you really rather not have things from me, I'll take them back. I don't care if it's useless to you now – you'll thank me later."

"I doubt it. This shirt feels like I'm wearing bindings." Kuja laughs and flips his hair.

"You'll see," he says in a way that puts Amarant on edge, and then stops, frowning.

"What?" the bounty hunter asks. Kuja points discreetly in front of them, and they see Gilgamesh and Arok enjoying a rather nice meal at a rather expensive café, laughing and ogling girls who can't tell them to shove off for once. "They couldn't possibly have enough money for that crap."

"Hm," Kuja agrees, smirking, and suddenly he's gone.

Amarant looks around for a moment before realizing that Kuja is already approaching the oblivious pickpockets, and he chuckles. They're in for a rather nasty surprise.

"Hello, gentlemen." Amarant can hear the cool, calculating tone in Kuja's voice as he approaches. Gilgamesh chokes on his food and Arok makes the strangest noise in his throat. "Enjoying your lunch?"

"...O-Oh, 'lo, Kuja," Arok begins shakily, grinning in a way that points arrows towards him, "Mm, 'ow'd y' get 'ome last night?"

"Oh, I got back fine," Kuja mused, sitting down at one of the empty seats, "But the funniest little thing happened."

"...R-Really?" Gilgamesh asks, and Amarant leans against a pole directly in his view. God, the little cutthroat looks as if he's about to shit himself. They've obviously never gotten caught before.

"Yes, it was just so strange. My key was misplaced, you see... I had to bed in Amarant's room." Arok flushes and Gilgamesh tries to make a coy comment that dies in his throat when Kuja suddenly slams his hands down and glares at the four-armed man. "Do you _know_ how hard it is to get to sleep with that man _snoring_ and refusing to give you the bed?"

"I don't snore!" Amarant exclaims suddenly, and Arok yelps because the bounty hunter was right behind him.

"Oh yes you _do_ and these two will be giving me back my key, my purse, and any other things they might've taken." Kuja's eyes burn and trace a line between Gilgamesh and Arok, who exchange their own looks. Will they run, or will they give up?

Arok leaps to his feet but Amarant catches him by the scruff of his neck, lifting him up and holding him there. Gilgamesh makes a mad dash for the street but is suddenly found hovering above the floor, floating backwards towards Kuja, who's hand is outstretched.

"I see," the Genome states, and rolls his hand idly; Gilgamesh is thrown upside down, and with a snap of manicured fingers, he's shaken roughly – several silk purses, a few stolen trinkets, three keys and a comb fall out of his amazingly well-stocked clothing. "Hm, what _do_ you know. Arok, do you have anything to contribute?"

"N-N-Naw, sirrah, ain't got nothin'!" the smaller of the two squeaks, "'e's got ever-ry thin'!"  
"You damned cheat!" Gilgamesh cries from upside-down, "We're a team, you ass!"

"Ya, but yer th' one who wan'ed t' chip it offa Kuja!"

"You're a horrible accomplice!"

Kuja grins, and lets Gilgamesh fall to the ground as he picks up his key and purse. Amarant lets Arok go when he sees that Kuja's not going to attack anyone, and looks at the purses still on the ground in annoyance.

"You can keep those," Kuja laughs at Arok's face, "I just wanted to have my own bed tonight, instead of fighting for it. I don't mind... actually..." He tosses his purse back down, and Gilgamesh stares at it in shock, "See you tonight, you two."

The Genome saunters merrily off and Amarant follows, confused. "Why'd you let them have that? It only shows them you're a pushover."

"If I were a pushover," Kuja drawls, "I wouldn't have been able to lift him in the air like that. And besides," he adds, grinning coyly, "I have you, don't I?"

"You don't have anything but the skin on your back," Amarant grumbles, but it's true – if Gilgamesh _were_ to try taking more from Kuja, he'd be met with severe consequences. If only because Amarant was easily annoyed by the guy.

"You know, now that we've issued a challenge, they're going to expect us to be at the warehouses," Kuja grins, looking at Amarant coyly.

"Damned monkey," Amarant growls, because he can't just back off of a challenge like that. Gilgamesh would be telling everyone he chickened out and he'd have to beat the crap out of him.

"So we're going! I have to go try these things on," Kuja immediately starts up again, looking like a hyper kid, "And you'll need to try on the clothes I bought you."

"I'm not your damned doll."

Kuja laughs, "Oh, you're nobody's _doll_." He smiles, ruefully, "No one's anybody's doll."

Amarant reminds himself to watch his mouth.

* * *

Kuja is doing his hair. Amarant is staring at the clothes in his hands, eyes narrowed in annoyance. That damned monkey is pushing his damned luck, with this crap.

He looks at it again and takes it all back. It's not _clothing_, it's just a pair of pants. And he's not pushing his luck, he's tearing it at the seams.

"I'm not wearing this."

"Yes you are," Kuja instantly reacts, doing some complicated things to his hair, "Put it on, or I'll do it _for_ you."

He should let that challenge stand, he really should. He'd love to see Kuja try to get him into these things that look more like a second skin than actual clothing. However, it would raise a lot of questions if that cute little barmaid heard them tumbling around up here and he would rather not have that happen.

So he takes off his pants and takes one long, loathing look at the pants in hand before managing to struggle himself into them.

He has to catch his breath – Good goddamn, the kid bought him pants that must've been two sizes too small! He stands – they're just plain, black pants that cling to him – that's not going to be something he's going to keep around...

Kuja stares at him and he flushes.

His hair is half up in some weird type of braid, loose and strung with black ribbons, setting off the coal around his eyes and the first outfit he had bought in Treno looks weird.

"'s too small," Amarant grunts, and feels absolutely absurd.

Kuja blinks, and looks back into the mirror of the bathroom quickly, pink tingeing his cheeks. "They are _not_. They fit you absolutely _perfectly_."

"I'm not wearing them," Amarant stands firm, crossing his arms.

"You want to bed that bargirl?" Amarant blinks, eyebrows raising. "Wear those out there and you'll have her in a moment's notice."

"Are you calling me attractive, now?" Amarant asks, suddenly smirking.

"I'm calling you attractive, yes. Now, if you want that girl I suggest you wear those, but if you don't care, you can change out of them. I won't make you wear something you don't want to."

"You're a _saint_," Amarant snorts, and spends about five minutes worming out of the infernal clothing.

"Pity. They really..." Kuja's blushing again, and Amarant looks away, searching for his regular clothes, "Accent your muscles."

The compliment (of sorts) hangs, and Amarant pulls his pants back on, feeling relieved that they're so baggy against the shirt Kuja had bought for him.

"What are you doing to your hair?" Amarant asks, raising an eyebrow. Kuja looks at him, finally tying a loose ribbon around the tail of his braid.

"Just making it different. I was going to cut it, but Lani told me not to."

"She likes long hair."

Kuja makes a noise and nods, but it's obvious that's not the only reason Lani gave him. The bounty hunter swears to himself, hoping she didn't go and tell him that _he_ likes long hair too – that stupid woman.

"Well, I'll bet some people are there already drunk, so we should probably attempt to head in that general direction as well," Kuja finally speaks up, smiling. His hair is back and his outfit looks like something a devil would wear, all straps and nets and skin.

"I guess."

Kuja laughs, "I'm sorry. Are you used to going around and avoiding contact with cutthroats?"

"Yeah," Amarant mutters, "But whatever."

"Excellent," Kuja replies, and immediately grabs his thick wrist, heading out the door. "Oh, don't forget your key."

He doesn't.

They walk downstairs – the barmaid giggles and waves, and Kuja waves back, Amarant giving her a slight smirk before disappearing through the door with the Genome. They head north, heading for the warehouses, and it's freezing.

"Why are you so interested in going to the warehouses, anyway?" Amarant asks, curious. He wants to get a bit more out of Kuja before they get so drunk they can't tell up from down.

"I don't know," Kuja shrugs, "It's... fun. I haven't been to anything like that, haven't you already known? And I like drinking."

"You'll be an alcoholic before anyone realizes."

"Not a bad way to live. Drinking, dancing? I would enjoy making a life out of that. I've already made my life worthless, why not go with it?"

Another little piece of Kuja floats to Amarant without extended prying or thinking, so he scoops it up and holds tight, hoping more will come.

"You're a fool."

"You've yet to be proven..."

_What is that?_

"Amarant?"

The bounty hunter looks around, eyes half narrowed and searching every crevice. Kuja asks him his name again, but he doesn't pay any attention. There's a song floating on the air and it's completely _entrancing_. He's never heard something like it before.

They're still walking and it's getting louder. Kuja looks worried – no, probably just annoyed – but they turn the corner and Amarant relaxes. It's just some kid playing his violin for money.

The boy is probably about twelve, a tiny, mousy little guy with matted brown hair and bright, alert blue eyes. He's wearing street clothes – baggy pants popular with little kids, a vest, and a brown bandana wrapped around his forehead.

He's playing a black violin, and it's carved with intricate little pictures of different little stories. Kuja is staring at him, and Amarant realizes he's staring too.

"Nothing big," Amarant mutters, realizing that it _is_ just a kid, "Just some kid playing for money."

Kuja stares a little more, and suddenly the boy hits a high note in a looping song, and stares Kuja down like a snake.

"He's not a kid," the Genome whispers, "Let's go."

"Hn?" But Kuja's already continuing down the path towards the warehouse. Amarant shrugs and throws the kid a few gil; he gets a short glance and then it's back to the violin. All for the violin.

* * *

Review in the disco.

Review in the Taco Bell.


	4. Poison Oak

A/N: WOAH what happened here? God, this chapter confuses me. But you all must love Arok now, because he's so delightful and easy-to-read! Go to my Deviant Art account to see a picture of him (devilishkurumi, as it is everywhere).

I'd like to take a moment to thank all of you for reviewing – a few select, deliciously happy reviews are better than hundreds of mindless ones. I'd also like to thank Starwolf for putting up with my incessant talk about this damned fic, and apologize because it's not gonna stop NOW.

* * *

The music is as loud as last night – no, wait... if at all possible, it might just be _louder_. Kuja is already looking about with a casual grin, most likely hunting out one of the three people he's met in Treno. 

Amarant shakes his head and heads for the "bar," intending to use his fists to get free drinks again. Kuja is following him – he can feel the other behind him even if he can't see him.

"I don't think either of those two are going to show up," Kuja grins, "We scared them."

"Whatever." Amarant gets the same as last night and even though he thinks Kuja should go easier tonight, the Genome gets the same as well. They're idle; the music isn't right and they aren't nearly drunk, much less drunk enough to dance.

They see a feather and then brown hair, and then Lani's approaching them with a grin.

"Amarant, you're becoming _social_," she chuckles, rolling her eyes as he gestures rudely to her. "Kuja! Did you convince him to come? You're amazing!"

"Mm, I know," Kuja waves a hand, "Would you like a drink? Apparently Amarant can get them for free."

"Want to see how?" Amarant asks, and he glares at the 'barkeep' who's really just a thief who steals alcohol. The thief brings him a huge mug of some kind of foul smelling alcohol, and he hands it to Lani.

"And you would think he has no use other than for beating people up!" Lani drawls, taking an easy swig of the drink. Kuja suddenly blinks, and darts off into the crowd; Amarant looks after him, then shrugs, leaning against the bar and taking a long drink.

"So, have fun last night, Ama'?" Lani asks, grinning up at the larger bounty hunter, "You were dancing an awful lot for someone who would never dance with me."

"_You_ never tried to get me drunk," Amarant grumbles. "Kuja doesn't have those kinds of morals."

"Oh, he has morals. You just so happen to be an exception to a lot of them."

Amarant looks at Lani, who's watching the crowd innocently. "What's that supposed to mean, woman?"

"You know, he's awfully girly, for such a refined guy," the girl continues, oblivious to Amarant's question. "He's awesome."

"You're a total fairy monger, that's all."

"So what's that say about you?" Amarant shoots her a glare that could kill a demon at twenty paces and she laughs. "Oh, did I wound your masculinity? Sorry." She isn't, obviously, and Amarant has to deal with it. "He's probably got a huge bounty on his head."

"He doesn't have a bounty," Amarant responds in annoyance. Lani blinks, eyes widening in confusion.

"Then why are you carting him around? He's either your companion or your bounty, right? Isn't that how it's been for the last five years?"

Amarant makes an affirming noise but can't answer Lani straight. It's no doubt – if Kuja had been known before his death, he would have been worth millions... but he's not. There's no bounty on Kuja, there's nothing to gain from humoring him or taking him to Alexandria – other than maybe money from Zidane, who might feel like he owes him _something_. But despite that, he doesn't feel as if he's – what was Lani's term? – a companion of Kuja's. He feels like a mixture between a babysitter and a bodyguard who can't do his job because his client keeps slinking off into crowds of cutthroats.

"You know, you're different." Lani's offhanded remark strikes Amarant with a club.

"What?"

"You're not... I don't know. Whatever you did with that monkey guy and the princess – queen – really left something on you, you know?"

"Yeah, it left a bad taste in my mouth." Lani laughs, and hits him on the shoulder – hard.

"You went and did the hero thing, didn't you?" she asks, grinning at him. He snorts and finishes the dregs of his drink, grabbing for another one. "I knew it. You came back and you were way too righteous for the bounty hunting business. Traveling with that monkey made you realize your hero capacity!"

"My hero _capacity_," Amarant repeats, skeptical. "I'm not a hero. I just had some epiphanies."

"The old Amarant would've beat those epiphanies to bloody messes and shoved them in a proverbial box," Lani chuckles. When Amarant glances at her in annoyance, she continues hastily, "It's not a bad thing, Ama'. I like it. You should've invited me along! I need some epiphanies!"

"What _you_ need is a _lobotomy_," he drawls, and Kuja's coming back to them with Arok by his side.

"...'n he just wen' an' ditched me!" the pickpocket is complaining. Kuja has a look of dull interest on his face – he cares, but only so much.

"I need another drink," he says to the thief behind the bar, who hastily looks from Amarant to the Genome before fixing him another of the same, "And my friend would like one too."

"Wow, y' gettin' special trea'men' by ev'ry'n!" Arok exclaims, and Kuja shrugs noncommittally.

"Gilgamesh abandoned our friend here," Kuja says to Lani and Amarant, who wear equal expressions of mild annoyance at the pickpocket, "And you shouldn't glare at people who can slit your throat in the dark from twelve paces to your left."

"What, now?" Amarant asks gruffly, looking at Arok, who looks like a kicked dog.

"Y'lookin' at on'na th' finest boun'y hunners in alla Gaia!" the pick pocket quickly grins, pointing to himself. He suddenly ducks his head and mumbles, "'Sides yerselves."

"Well, at least he knows his place," Lani smirks, crossing her arms and looking a lot like Amarant. "Fess up, then, why are you hanging around _Gilgamesh_?"

"Why's Kuja hangin' 'round y'two? 'E's highclass 'n boun'y hunners ain't... but 'e likes y'all, so 'e hangs 'round."

Amarant deciphers the slurring accent and looks at Kuja, eyebrow raised in mild curiosity, "So, you like us?"

"Mm," Kuja nods, "I like _Lani_. You, I'm not so sure about," he grins, and Lani laughs.

"My heart's breaking," Amarant rolls his eyes, "Why don't you and Lani share a bed, then, and _she_ can take you to Alexandria."

"I'm not going to sleep with him!" Lani exclaims.

"I don't sleep with people I like!" the Genome huffs, looking like a bird with ruffled feathers.

"Then who _do _you sleep with?" Amarant asks, smirk on his face. He knows Kuja's going to have to struggle to get out of this one, and nothing he says won't dig him deeper –

"People I don't know if I like or not."

Lani chokes on her drink and Amarant blinks, confused. He thinks about it and realizes that that's what _he_ is, but he can't say anything and Kuja doesn't elaborate.

They hang around the wall and talk; Lani's laughing with Kuja, Arok's making fumbled attempts to flirt with the bounty huntress, her letting him continue because the attention is good and he's probably attractive. Amarant wouldn't know – he doesn't think about that unless it's presented before him on a goddamned silver platter.

They're steadily reaching their previous amount of alcohol, but Kuja seems to have the swing of things and it's probably going to be a bit longer before he gets drunk enough to think dancing with Amarant's going to be any fun. Amarant's _not_ looking forward to it, of course. He just wants to keep track of Kuja's drinking to make sure the monkey doesn't collapse.

Kuja's leaning against Arok when suddenly the two girls – the two girls from last night, they must be the only locals who can carry a goddamn note – start up a song that Lani must like. "Kuja! Come dance with me!" she shouts, and the Genome laughs and nods, because he doesn't need to be drunk to know Lani can dance.

Amarant isn't annoyed by that, of course.

"Y' keep glarin' like tha' 'n jus' maybe 'e'll notice, hm?" Amarant shoots a deadly look at Arok, warning him to keep his mouth shut. He's a lightweight, already drunk, so he doesn't notice it. "'m surprised y' let y'mate outta y'sight like tha'."

"My _mate?_"

"Ah!" Arok suddenly flushes, "Naw, naw, not like _tha'_! Y'mate, y', whazzit, y'friend. Kuja!"

"He's not my _friend_."

"'Sright, 'e's yer _mate_. 'Nyway, tha' Lani's gonna take 'n scoop 'im up for any boun'y 'e might 'ave. Watcher back."

"He doesn't have a bounty," Amarant insists for the second time that night. Arok shrugs, and swallows the rest of his fifth drink. Amarant finishes his twelfth and wonders if Kuja's had seven or eight now.

"Mm... Yanno, 'e's got sad eyes. Eyes like tha' gotta mean 'e's done summin bad. Pro'ly bad 'nough for a boun'y."

Amarant wonders if the little, broken-nosed guy knows what he's talking about. Kuja would've had a bounty if he had been alive longer... Maybe he does have sad eyes and Amarant just doesn't notice it because he doesn't think deep enough.

"'s pretty cute, though. If 'e isn't yer boun'y 'r yer mate, y'should bed 'im 'fore someone else takes 'im."

"I'm _not_ going to sleep with Kuja," Amarant growls, voice low. Arok must realize now that he's hit his boundaries and he holds up his hands, spilling his drink a little.

"Okay, okay! Didn' mean nothin' by it, jus' makin' observations."

"Make an observation about the size of my fist in relation to the size of your _face_, and then you can tell me if you want to keep talking."

"Amarant, are you harassing Arok?"

The two bounty hunters turn to see Kuja and Lani, slightly out of breath and both wearing easy grins because yes, Kuja's had about eight drinks now and Lani's always drunk.

"Naw, naw," Arok fills in for Amarant, responding to Kuja's question, "Jus' talkin'."

Kuja's hair is already loosened up and silver is falling in his eyes, black ribbons trailing over his shoulders and Amarant 'asks' for another drink. He's not nearly drunk enough to excuse thinking about Kuja.

"When are you dancing with me?" Kuja pouts, and Amarant takes an extra moment. No, his eyes look normal enough to him.

"I'm not dancing with you."

"How many drinks have you had?"

"...Fourteen, maybe."

Kuja grins and nods, "Then you have to. It didn't take that many to get you to last time, come on."

Kuja grabs Amarant's hands again – the bounty hunter trips up and spills some of his drink before Lani grabs it for herself – and pulls him directly to the floor. Lani's laughing and Arok's talking about something stupid, and then Kuja's hands are on his shoulders and Kuja's pressed lightly against him. The song is loud and fast and happy, and he thinks he's heard it before. Kuja's laughing and they're moving around the floor without even needing to look at the other people because it's all instinctive. Kuja swings his hips in time to the music and slides backwards, hands snaking down Amarant's arms and grabbing hold of his hands.

They step to either side and then back, and at just the right moment Kuja lets one hand go and Amarant easily pulls him back, and _wow_ apparently it really was fourteen drinks to get him dancing well enough to keep Kuja grinning. He feels Kuja's hips under his hands and realizes the tricky monkey put his hands there; they swing so he swings and when Kuja slides his arms against Amarant's sides they move to the left and avoid being hit by two rowdy drunks. The girls do a few solid hits against the piano and at each note Kuja tilts his hips and they're at the very end of the song and Kuja falls against him at the last note.

"You're a wonderful dancer, for sure," Kuja is breathing faster than normal, out of breath. "It's really not just the alcohol talking."

"Hn." They're still swaying because – well, because Kuja's still with the music and Amarant's still with Kuja. His hair is all over his face, and almost too quickly for Amarant to guess it, his hand reaches out and pushes it behind Kuja's ear because, really, he looks better when you can see his eyes.

His eyes _are_ sad. You just have to look the right way.

"Are..." Amarant stops himself from asking any questions; he's already acted stupidly by _dancing,_ and then messing around with Kuja's hair? He _must_ be drunk.

"Mm," Kuja nods, because the damned monkey probably already knows what Amarant was going to ask. "Fine, fine." This song is mellower, still bouncy but without all of the crazed undertones. "I really do think you're an excellent dancer," Kuja confesses, as if it's so hard to believe. It is.

"I don't dance," the bounty hunter drawls even as they sway with the music.

"Then what do you call whatever _that_ was?" Kuja grins, looking up at the bounty hunter from against his chest.

"Being foolish."

"Ah, there is a foolish corner in the mind of the wisest men," Kuja replies in a soft, easy voice, "I guess we should make sure Lani and Arok don't kill each other."

"Wouldn't mind it if they did," Amarant drawls and Kuja laughs.

"Unless you want to keep dancing?"

Amarant doesn't know. "Whatever."

They stay, Kuja breathing deep and looking tired. The song ends on a soft note and they finally drift back towards the two they had left at the 'bar.'

"Y'wanna try it!" Arok's voice shouts over the crowd and Kuja frowns, moving faster than Amarant wants, but the bounty hunter follows as well.

Arok is facing off against a tall, muscular guy with excessive scars, Lani wailing about a ruined shirt from somewhere to the left. Kuja immediately goes to her, and Amarant approaches the two.

"What's going on?" he asks, because he would rather not have a fight when he's so pleasantly drunk out of his mind.

"Th's ass'ole wants t' try takin' me on!" Arok exclaims, looking like a house cat against a mountain lion, "First y' throw y'drink on Lani 'n now y'wanna fight me? Let's go, I'll take y'on right fast!"

"You threw your _drink_ on Lani?" Amarant asks, confused. Why would someone waste a perfectly good amount of alcohol on Lani's clothes?

"Who the hell are you?" the cutthroat asks Amarant gruffly, "Back the fuck out of my business."

"Y'dunno who yer talkin' t'!" Arok shouts, and the cutthroat growls lowly before socking him square in the jaw, a hollow _crack_ drawing the attention of some of the crowd. The smaller of the two yelps and falls back, hands over his bloody mouth.

"Stop buggin' me, you runt!"

Amarant growls and grabs the cutthroat by the neck, dragging him close. "You want a fight? Let's _fight_."

The cutthroat responds by punching Amarant as well, right in the nose. Amarant snarls and throws the asshole into the crowd, which splits to either side. The two girls see the fight and make exclamations about tickets and bets, starting up a rowdy, vicious Burmecian war song. The scarred man stands and lunges at Amarant, who blocks him with an arm and swings, catching him in the gut. The man cracks against the ground when he falls but springs back up, twisting strangely before throwing something at Amarant.

The form is sloppy and the bounty hunter catches the projectile between two fingers – a wicked blade stares at him and he throws it back at the assailant. It catches him in the shoulder and he stumbles back, feet hitting the ground in time to the drums. He rips the knife out and attacks Amarant viciously, swinging with all his might and not bothering to defend the seldom, powerful blows the bounty hunter throws at him.

Lani's shouting at him and he turns just in time to block a kick from one of the scarred man's friends, who falls into line with the first and now he's outnumbered by one, but hey, he's done worse.

They're fighting in unison and maybe they're brothers or something, reading each other perfectly and then there's a third – okay, perhaps this _is_ outnumbered. Amarant backhands one and sends him flying into the crowd – he doesn't return so the other two fight harder. He feels a sharp jolt and looks down – one of the two brothers tried to stab him, but the shirt blocked it?

He fights harder and grabs one by the throat. "_Enough_!" he roars, and the original fighter falls back, staring at Amarant in shock. He tightens the grip on the other's neck and hears him gag. "Get the _fuck_ out of here, you fool," he hisses, throwing the brother to the thief and growling.

There's a shout from the crowd and Amarant turns – the third comes charging, and he holds up his arms to defend himself, when suddenly the attacker is hanging upside down in the air.

Kuja looks beyond displeased. His dark eyes are laced with red and his hair is flickering very slightly. "You're _going to_ want to leave _now, if you_ want to live," he growls, voice changing slightly but he's getting control. He lets the third out of his grasp and the three go running to loud, rowdy catcalls from the stage, in time to an Alexandrian fighting tune. The crowd laughs and Amarant breathes deep. Kuja comes next to him and looks at him curiously.

"Are you okay?" he asks, but the bounty hunter stares at him.

"You nearly lost it," he growls, "Don't do that."

"You would've gotten stabbed in the _neck_ if I hadn't stepped in!" Kuja exclaims.

"I've handled _worse_." No he hasn't. "Do it again and I'll knock you out." No he won't.

Kuja makes a noise and stalks off, looking even angrier than before. Amarant shrugs to himself and leaves the building, heading back towards the inn. He feels a sharp jolt when he uses one leg, and figures there's probably going to be a nasty bruise there.

The inn is warm compared to the night, and the little barmaid looks up, sees him, and gasps in shock. "Mr. Amarant!" she exclaims, "Are you alright?"

Does he look bad off? He catches himself in the mirror and sees that his nose is swollen – dear god if it's broken, nothing's going to stop him from killing all three of those assholes. He's got a black eye, too, but he's had that before.

"Nn, fine." She's over in an instant, reaching up (_practically has to stand on her toes_) and feeling along the ridge of his nose. She sighs in reluctant agreement.

"Your nose isn't broken, you're lucky. Did you get into a fight with Mr. Kuja?"

"You think _Kuja_ could do this to me." It's not a question, he's too annoyed (_Kuja's too fucking smart to try and hurt me_) to really place it as such.

"He's a lot stronger than you think," the girl replies (_she can probably read my mind, wouldn't be the first time a bint's done that_) and he shakes his head.

"Bar fight."

He stares at the girl and wonders if this is her silver platter offering. She's close; hand still on his face (_she really is standing on her toes, she's so small_) and wide blue eyes staring at him in awe, because he's treating a bar fight as normality. She's got soft brown hair, but it's shorter than he would prefer, but it's curly and falls out of a bun in little ringlets. She's small (_practically three feet shorter than me, damn_) and she's shy (_look at that, she's blushing, been spending too long staring_) but it looks alright on her.

"I still need to close up, but afterwards," she starts, stepping back and landing on her full feet, "I'll come up with some ice for that eye."

"Thanks," he mutters, and heads up the stairs. Maybe he should've worn those pants Kuja got him.

He gets into his room and closes the door, falling onto the bed and groaning in annoyance. He manages to sit up long enough to struggle out of his shirt (_it really did help, huh?_) and his shoes, and then falls back again, staring at the ceiling for what seems like an eternity, closing his eyes and breathing deeply (_one, two, three four_).

He wakes up – slowly again, damn it – and hears muted voices at his door. He doesn't bother to look – it's dark, he'd only see the silhouettes anyways – because he knows who it is.

"I don't think it's broken," the barmaid's whispering, "But put some ice on it to keep the swelling down. If it _is_ broken, let me know."

"Thank you," Kuja's murmuring (_forgot to lock the door_), and then the door clicks shut and he's alone again.

Kuja sits on his bed, and he blinks in surprise (_guy's too damned quiet_) and he catches Amarant's eyes even in the dark.

"Are you okay?" he asks, for the second time tonight. Again, Amarant doesn't answer (_do you want that in essay form or a list?_) and Kuja sighs. He feels Kuja feel out his bruises and frowns, because it's not that big of a deal (_I've never needed anyone before, why are you acting like I need someone now?_).

Kuja leans over him and examines the bruises, hands soft and twice as dexterous as his own (_if I did this I'd probably end up breaking my nose_). His hair is out of his braid and the ribbons are gone, leaving only silver hair to frame his face. It glows in the dim light from outside, just like his dark eyes (_yeah, it wasn't the light, they're sad_) and his skin is pale.

His hands work against the bruises and he puts ice on his nose, wrapped up in a towel from downstairs (_smells like beer and perfume_), and then his hands trace along scars on his chest that are hidden by the netting of that damned shirt, bruises forming from punches and the failed knifing. That one's going to hurt like a bitch (_but it's better than if I'd been stabbed_) and it hurts now as Kuja pushes his hands against it, muttering soft words. The pain almost immediately goes away (_white magic?_) and Kuja does this to all of his bruises, massaging out the lingering pain before going to the next one.

His hands are soft against Amarant's face again, and now he can hear the silver haired man's mumblings (_yeah, that's a spell_) and his nose feels a lot better.

Kuja doesn't say anything; he just sits on the side of the bed and feels Amarant's face and scars, tracing them in a way to commit them to memory (_why would he _want_ to remember them, I sure as hell don't_). "I'm sorry," he murmurs, and his hands push hair back softly, as if it might hurt. "I didn't mean to lose control."

"...You didn't," Amarant mutters, voice hoarse.

"I almost did. I just didn't think you should get stabbed in the neck for defending Arok."

"I wasn't defending that fool," the bounty hunter mumbles, flushing slightly (_so glad it's dark_) and finishing reluctantly, "He just ruined my good mood."

"I didn't know you had those," Kuja laughs quietly, smiling. Amarant looks away (_he looks like a damned woman_) and Kuja's hands stop stroking his hair, and he looks so familiar...

(_Zidane looked like that when he came back and told me about how Kuja'd died and how he'd taken three days to bury him._)

He can almost see Zidane crying in Kuja's eyes. (_It took a long time before he'd tell anyone._)

He feels stupidly sentimental about that moment – it's the only time anyone's confided in him first before their lovers or their real friends, and it's stuck. Kuja looks like he's about to cry and Amarant has no idea why.

"I don't want to die again," Kuja murmurs, and Amarant blinks, looking at the Genome in confusion. "I'm afraid of it."

His hands are on his face, and he closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths (_one, two, three four_).

He wakes up to the door closing softly with a light click. A moment later, and a few deep breaths and he doesn't hear it open again. He won't wake up until morning.

* * *

Let the poets cry themselves to sleep. 


	5. Fight Test

A/N: This chapter sucks just a little more than I'd like it to. It does a lot of stuff I didn't expect it to do at this moment, but whatever. It's also shorter because I wanted to cut it off before they left.

Give it two more chapters, I'd wager...

* * *

Amarant wakes up to find Kuja sleeping on him. His first thought was to shout and toss him from the bed, but he's too damned tired to bother with it. He swears to never drink again, and watches the monkey sleep. 

He's curled up, half on top of him, half not, tail wrapped loosely around Amarant's ankle and head on his chest. Amarant's dully surprised that his hand is resting in Kuja's hair, but it's soft and comfortable. He blinks, suddenly, and frowns in confusion.

What the _hell_ did he do last night?

Kuja makes an annoyed noise when Amarant sits up, and he feels the monkey's tail tighten briefly before uncurling to flick at Amarant in aggravation.

"W'sit?"

Amarant looks down at Kuja, who's curled into the spot Amarant had been occupying, looking at him with half-asleep eyes.

"What happened last night, and why are you in my bed?"

Kuja blinks, and looks around in curiosity. "Am I?" The Genome sits up and takes a long while to stretch, back cracking. "Mm, I was tired. So I went to sleep."

"In my room?"

Pink tinges his cheeks, "I was keeping check on you. Besides, Lani's in my room."

"I thought you said you wouldn't bed her?" Amarant drawls, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rolling his shoulders. They feel more relaxed.

"I didn't! She was worried about _you_, you ass." Amarant opens his mouth but Kuja cuts him off before he can even start a sentence, "Not of you being hurt, but because you left so suddenly. I didn't expect you to do that."

"What else would I've done?" Amarant asks, annoyed, standing up and moving towards his shirt, lying on the ground.

"I don't know... Are you okay?" Kuja's by his side when he falls on his knee, wincing.

"'m fine," he mutters, standing up and hobbling to the bed again, sitting down heavily. "Damn it."

"Let me see," the monkey asks, kneeling down in front of Amarant. He flushes and looks away.

"It's nothing."

Kuja shakes his head and then, to Amarant's complete amazement, his hands dart out and grab the hem of his pants, forcing them off. Kuja pays him no attention, not even to note the fact that he's blood red, focusing solely on Amarant's knee, which is swollen and bleeding, looking a lot worse than Amarant had thought it would. Kuja's looking at it in worry and confusion.

"What did they do?"

"Kicked me, I guess," Amarant mumbles, flushing as Kuja's hands touched his leg, watching the other in dull awe. "What're you..."

Kuja mumbles something and the wound starts healing – it's so strange to see the swelling go down and the color fade so quickly. "However they did this, it could've caused some serious problems," the Genome mutters, standing up and turning around suddenly, "Now, get dressed and come on, we have to go see Lani."

Amarant stumbles to get his pants on and grabs the shirt Kuja bought him – he's learned his lesson and will consider wearing the pants in future advents.

Kuja's blushing hotly when they leave, and Lani leans against the wall, grinning coyly at them.

"What have _you_ been up to, blushing like that?" she asks the Genome, who only blinks and turns away, heading downstairs. "Hmm?" she turns the question to Amarant, who shrugs.

"Nothing important," the bounty hunter mumbles, following Kuja down the stairs, feeling Lani follow.

"Mornin', mates." Amarant groans and turns, attempting to go upstairs again, but Lani pushes him back to the table where Kuja and Arok are sitting, a weird looking guy with obnoxiously bright orange hair and dark skin leaning against Arok in a tired stupor.

"Hi," Lani speaks up, sitting down next to Kuja and looking at the sleeping man in confusion. "Who's the stiff?"

"'m notta stiff," the man mutters, sitting up and wiping at his eyes, "This asshole just gotta get up so damn early to talk to y'all."

"Shh y'self," Arok chides, smacking the other upside the head, "Ain't y'grateful I only got one missin' teeth insteada twen'y?"

"I dunno. It might be better without all those teeth."

"Yer _disgustin'_, y'know tha'?"

"Who is this?" Kuja finally asks for all three of them, leaning in and watching Arok grin stupidly. Amarant realizes that he's got a gap in his teeth – that asshole from last night must've knocked it out.

"'S is Byrd. 'e's my mate."

"Your mate," Lani starts, raising an eyebrow, "Or your _mate_?"

"Either or," Byrd cuts in, grinning cheekily, "Dependin' on the situation, it can be both."

"Tha's what 'e says _now_," Arok drawls, punching Byrd's shoulder, "Jus' 'cos there's a pretty lady talkin' t' 'im. Gimmie five minu'es inna room 'lone with 'im 'n y'll see."

Amarant smirks at Lani's annoyed expression. "Fairy monger," he mutters quietly enough so only she hears it.

"You shut up!" she exclaims.

"C'n we go back, now, darlin'?" Byrd yawns in a completely exaggerated, overdramatic way and Amarant rolls his eyes, "I'm _so_ tired..."

"God, y'wonder why I throw thin's n' make a fuss!" And yet, Arok turns back to them, "I guess I gotta take th' lug back 'fore 'e throws a fit. See'y' 'round, mates."

The two scurry off almost immediately, and Amarant makes an annoyed noise.

"He wanted to say thank you," Kuja speaks up, leaning his head on his hand, "But you scared him off. Poor guy, losing his tooth like that."

"It would've fallen out eventually," Amarant grumbles, "Lowlifes aren't so good at keeping their teeth clean."

"And I suppose _your_ dental records are flawless?" Kuja responds, raising an eyebrow.

"When are you going to be able to go to Alexandria?" Amarant suddenly asks, crossing his arms. He's had enough of Treno, really, and it's about time they thought to move on.

"...I don't know. You don't have to stay here, you know – I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

Lani watches this exchange cautiously, and then suddenly stands up. "You know, I have some things I have to take care of... I'll catch up with you two later." She darts out of the inn and Amarant and Kuja stare each other down.

"I don't trust you," Amarant growls, "You're not stable enough to leave alone."

"You know, I don't exactly find you to be the best of company. It's not like _I_ asked you to take me on a stupid little trip to Alexandria."

"What would you rather me do? Leave you to _rot_ in the desert?"

Kuja crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, "That would've been easy enough for you to do, _wouldn't_ it?" Amarant almost feels the air stop so he stands up, shaking his head.

"I'm not going to fight with you over something stupid."

Kuja stands as well. "This isn't fighting – oh, you haven't _seen_ fighting yet! And you can't just back out of something that _you_ started! _You_ wanted to take me to Alexandria, I didn't want to do anything of the sort!"

"I _would_ have left you in that great goddamned desert if I had any of my old sense!" Amarant snarls, and the inn is completely silent – most of the patrons had left discreetly at the start of the argument, and the last stragglers are heading out of the door quickly enough. "If it wasn't for that goddamned Zidane-"

"_Fuck_ Zidane!" Kuja throws his hands into the air, energy crackling around him, "I don't give a _crap _what heroic bullshit my brother instilled in you, you didn't have to bring it out on _me_!"

"I didn't have to but it comes with the goddamned package! You would've blown up an entire _village_ if I hadn't-"

"That's _enough_!"

The two stop and look at the tiny barmaid, who's standing in front of the bar, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed. "I'm going to have to ask you to _leave_, if you two are going to continue this argument. From what I've seen, you're both being stupid and _childish_, and it's _no one's_ fault that you're here with each other so you should just stop!"

"I..." Amarant wants to apologize, but at the same time he wants to grab Kuja and strangle him. He settles for going silent and feeling like he's a kid being yelled at for trying to steal a cookie.

It's just as humbling as it was when he was little.

"...Forgive me," Kuja finally mumbles, before heading out the door as if he has one of the most important meetings of his life in five minutes. Amarant follows the Genome with his eyes until he's outside, and turns back to find the barmaid standing in front of him, arms crossed. She doesn't look nearly as angry now – more tired than anything.

"Miss Lani is right about you two – you don't fit together at all."

Amarant wonders when the hell this girl gets the chance to talk to Lani, but doesn't ask. He's still being chewed out – damn, he should've left after Kuja.

"I'm surprised you made it this far before you actually started yelling," she continues, sighing and picking up dirty plates full of half-eaten food. "But I wish you would've waited until morning rush was over. That's three bills that've been skipped out on," she mumbles, counting some gil on a table and pocketing it. Amarant sits down in one of the chairs, sighing heavily.

The girl puts the dirty dishes on the counter and then comes over and sits across from him, pulling her hair out of her bun and starting to redo it. "Still..." she frowns, "I think you might be too harsh on Mr. Kuja."

"_Me_?" Amarant asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, Mr. Kuja _did_ say you dragged him out of wherever he was living at the time..."

_Wandering around, more like it,_ he thinks, but stays silent.

"And he has a lot on his mind. That Zidane you were yelling about...?"

"His brother."

"He sent him a letter a few days ago and got a response. I don't know what it said but Mr. Kuja told me he was going to go to Alexandria soon. I think you should apologize to him, so he doesn't leave you here."

"What in the hell makes you think I want to stick around Kuja?" Amarant asks, leaning back. The girl bites her lip, but smiles nonetheless.

"I don't really know what _you _want," she says, "But Mr. Kuja wants you to go with him." She notices he's annoyed, and blinks, "You don't know?"

"Know _what_, exactly?" Amarant groans, "Everyone knows something I have no clue of."

The girl suddenly blushes and stands up, tying the bun back up. "I have to clean the dishes. Um, it's not my place to tell you what Kuja thinks – I'm just a barmaid, you know?" She's heading back to the bar and he stands up, frowning.

"Do I look like I could ever understand what that monkey's thinking?" he asks, and she looks at him seriously. "I'm not exactly one of those mind-reading types you women seem to be."

The girl laughs suddenly, shaking her head. "It's not _mind_ reading that 'we women' do, Mr. Amarant," she giggles, "It's the fine art of body language. You're a fighter, aren't you? Shouldn't you know how to read when a person's going to attack and defend?"

"So, what? Is Kuja about to attack me and I have no clue?"

The girl bites her lip, holding back another laugh, "You could say that. Now, go on and find him before he runs off and gets into trouble with those two pickpockets that were here earlier."

She shoos him out of the inn rather easily, considering how much Amarant wants answers that she has. He shakes his head – what the hell was she talking about, body language and mind reading and whatnot?

"Deceptive little wenches," he mutters, putting his hands in his pockets and starting off around the circle. He probably should look for Kuja – the barmaid's right, he's probably getting himself killed – but his head is full and he needs time to think. Kuja's a complicated, confusing, irritating guy and he gives Amarant too much to think about without giving him enough answers.

He's afraid of dying. That's something Amarant's always known – he was afraid to die before, and it hasn't changed. He wants to spend his money before he dies, which is plausible enough...

He likes drinking and dancing, and hanging around pick pockets. He's danced with Amarant, and goddamn it, Amarant's enjoyed it. He's tended to Amarant's wounds like a damned nurse and slept on top of him as if it were natural. What kind of body language was _that_, and why did the girl think that had anything to do with Kuja's wanting to leave Treno with Amarant?

He closes his eyes and tries to remember exactly what happened the night before, after Kuja told him he was so afraid to die, but he hits a blank and can't think past it. He must've fallen asleep with Kuja there... but it feels so strange, like there's something he's missing.

Six hands grab him and he's pulled into an alleyway, thrown off balance because he hadn't been watching – damn him for getting so careless!

There's a sharp pain in his arm and then he hears the cutthroat from the night before mumble something, and the pain stops. He hears an infinitely softer, younger voice say something and then he's shoved back out into the street. Nobles glance at him as he ducks back into the alleyway, searching every corner for the jackasses so he can beat them into bloody pulps – what did they do?

They're gone, and he suddenly feels very tired.

"Shit," he mumbles, leaving the alley and heading back to the inn, blinking his eyes to keep them from blurring.

The barmaid looks up when he enters, frowning. "Mr. Amarant, what's wrong?"

"'sattacked." He can feel the ground under his feet, sure as he can feel a slight sting in his arm, but suddenly his leg goes numb and he falls to the floor.

"Mr. Amarant!"

Oh, he should probably say something. He knows, somewhere, he's trying to open his mouth, but for some reason his brain just doesn't want to work with him.

A few deep breaths, and he can't hear her calling his name any more.

* * *

"...Can't leave now." 

"You'll have to, you're both up for nasty payback after that fight last night."

"I don't think it's those guys from the warehouse we have to worry about, Lani."

Amarant groans and the conversation dies. He forces his eyes open – it shouldn't be so hard – and looks to the door. He's laying in bed, Lani and the barmaid standing close together and watching him strange expressions. He looks to the other side and Kuja is staring at him, and he suddenly realizes the monkey's got a hold of one of his hands. His hand is so small but he knows – first hand – just how strong it is.

"Wh..." His throat is dry and his voice is hoarse. The barmaid comes forward and gives him a glass of water – he drinks it down like a man in a desert, before starting again. "What happened...?"

Lani crosses her arms, "We were hoping _you'd_ tell _us_. Janelle said you came in and collapsed."

Amarant looks at the barmaid. Her name's Janelle?

"I got attacked. I think it was the assholes from last night."

Kuja's hand tightened, and he murmured, "Was there anyone else?" He seems so sure that there was...

"...I don't... there was another voice; didn't sound like one of theirs." He tries to place it in categories that he can say, categories that fit it but there aren't any... "It sounded... younger, I guess. Softer." There's the word, "Noble. Not the kind that talk with cutthroats."

"I think..." Kuja's looking away, hand moving out of Amarant's. The bounty hunter surprises both of them when he closes his fingers around Kuja's, assuring him that no, he's quite alright holding his hand. "I think we should consider going to Alexandria soon."

"Hell no," Amarant immediately responds, raising his eyebrows, "Not when those assholes are still around, laughing about knocking me out like that." He sits up to prove his point but feels suddenly tired and has to lay back down.

"They didn't just knock you out, you fool." Kuja's voice is soft, and he glances at Lani and Janelle, who both quietly move out of the doorway, closing it behind them. Amarant takes this as a bad sign. "They sliced your arm open with some kind of enchanted blade."

"So? I'm fine now."

Kuja sighs, shaking his head. "You'll need to rest for a good couple of days. And by then, you'll be so tired of me you'll _want_ to go to Alexandria. Besides, until we know exactly who hired those three brothers, we'll be at a disadvantage. So we're going to Alexandria, and that is final."

"I didn't say I wouldn't go. I just..."

"You want to kick their asses, I know, I know." Kuja tosses his hair over his shoulder, sighing. "You're so incredibly manly it's amazing."

"Mm, and whose words are those?"

Kuja grins, "Oh, I don't know. I'm sure Janelle's thought it once or twice but I'm holding them as my own for now." The monkey looks at him for a long while, and then reaches out and pushes his hair out of his eyes again.

"This is the second time you've got me bedded in less than two days," Amarant grins despite himself, "Never met anyone to do that before."

Kuja laughs. "I'm the first of a lot of things," he mutters, running his thumb along one of Amarant's huge knuckles, "Go back to sleep. Sooner you sleep it off, the sooner we can leave and you can be rid of me to fight your own agenda."

Amarant allows himself to drift into sleep, but can't help but wonder if it's not just body language he needs to be watching.

* * *

The Test Is Over... Now. 


	6. Sunspot

A/N: Oh no, it looks like I'm hitting a slump – thank god this fic's almost over! That's right, probably only one or two more chapters until it's over, man! First real fic I've finished in ages – but let's not count the chickens before they hatch, or whatever.

They're getting shorter...

* * *

Kuja's hand is still in his when Amarant wakes up. He still feels tired, but he's big and pretty strong when it comes to near death experiences, so he knows it'll pass. 

The Genome's asleep in the chair beside the bed, head at an awkward position. His neck is going to get stiff – if it isn't already – and Amarant sighs, sitting up slowly. He's hungry, and maybe, if it's not already too late, that little barmaid – Janelle, he has to remind himself that she has a name – will be up and able to fix him something. If not, he'll scrounge. He stands, hobbles towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

Kuja's looking at him, hair matted and falling in his face, eyes tired.

"Food," he mutters, stretching an arm. "What, you expect me to be comatose for three days?"

"It hasn't been three days. Only two."

Amarant blinks and looks at the monkey, feeling physically struck. "What?"

Kuja sits up and stretches, cracking his neck and sighing. "You've been asleep for two days. We were worried."

"Hn. Don't worry about me," Amarant grumbles, "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can," Kuja starts, standing up and crossing his arms, "But it won't stop me – us, from worrying. You've got two girls who _like_ you, and one man who owes you his life."

"We've gone from placing blame to you owing me a life?" Amarant frowns. What's happened in two days might throw him off ever understanding Kuja.

Kuja runs a hand through his hair and Amarant realizes he doesn't look like he's slept very much – or eaten.

"...Come on," the bounty hunter mutters, "You look like you haven't eaten in a while." Kuja stares at him for a moment, and Amarant rolls his eyes. "You're going to follow me, anyways. At least now I don't feel like I'm being _stalked_." With that, he turns and leaves the room. Just like at the warehouse, he can tell Kuja's following even if he can't see him.

They get downstairs and Janelle greets them with a surprised hello. Lani, sitting at one of the tables, ignores them for the most part, only giving Amarant a quick eye roll. Nothing surprising – Lani always knows he's going to be okay.

"Can we get some food?" Amarant asks, and Janelle nods, laughing suddenly and throwing relieved arms around him in a hug, before blushing and quickly stepping back, eyes darting from Amarant to Kuja.

"He's not going to bite you," Kuja drawls, "No matter how snappish he might be."

"I'll get you something good to eat, Mr. Amarant. I – we were so worried!" She hurries back into the kitchen and Amarant looks around.

"Two questions."

"Shoot," Lani says idly, looking up.

"Why is this place practically empty, and what the hell happened?"

"It's empty because it's nearly one in the morning and all the decent people are asleep, and not much. We-" meaning they "Were too worried to go out and scrounge for information." Meaning they were worried and Lani didn't find anything.

Kuja sighs and falls into a chair, looking worn out. Amarant begins to form a question, but Lani shakes her head and he doesn't ask. She'll tell him later – she'll tell him everything later.

Janelle comes out with bread, fruit, salad, and cold meats – Amarant's glad she didn't go through the trouble of heating it. They all sit at one of the larger tables and take whatever they want – Kuja eats a surprising amount of meat, considering how little he's eaten since Amarant found him. Lani and Janelle are talking about some fop who came into the inn earlier. Kuja makes a few small, smartass remarks, but otherwise he's quiet, eating slowly and giving Amarant shaded looks with weary eyes.

Amarant has no clue what's happened, but he can tell something's changed. The air is charged but not frozen like the times Kuja's gone trance. The girls seem to be fine but maybe it's happened to everyone but himself, so only he notices. He wants to ask, but he knows that sooner or later, everything will come out – it always does, and he always treats situations like this the same. He always will.

Amarant eats as much as he can – he still feels tired so he's slower, sloppier, and then he gets up.

"I'm going to get more rest," he mutters, giving Lani a quick look, telling her silently that she was going to have to tell him what had _really_ happened. He's not too worried about the cutthroats – not like Kuja and Janelle, apparently. He knows that eventually they'll screw up, and he'll be there to grab them by the neck.

Amarant gets to his room and sits on the bed, hanging his head. He feels a lot more tired than he thought he really was. Once Lani comes and tells him what they've been doing for the last two days, he can sleep some more.

Lani is punctual for the first time in their relationship. She comes in and shuts the door, locking it after her, and taking a place by the wall, leaning back and perfecting her Amarant look.

"So?" Amarant asks, looking at her. She stares back, eyes unreadable – another first.

"So what?"

"What happened? I'm out of commission for two days, and suddenly you all act... differently."

Lani sighs, and shakes her head. "While you were out... Not much really happened. I was telling you the truth – we were worried about you."

"That's bullshit, Lani," Amarant says, voice calm and casual. He doesn't mean anything by it. "You know you don't give a shit about me – you don't _need_ to."

"Maybe it's time I started. You obviously can't handle yourself anymore." Amarant glares daggers at her, and she shrugs. "I'm only telling you what I'm seeing."

"And what are you seeing? Remember, you're still talking to a guy three times as big as you."

"Doesn't mean anything," she drawls, "I can take you out. Hell, you get cut on your arm and you're knocked out for two days!"

"It was _enchanted_, you fool. And I think it was enchanted to do just that – put me out of commission for a few days."

"Why, so you could get some good sleep for once in your life?" Lani frowns in annoyance, "So you can have Kuja fawn all over you?"

"Careful, Lani, you might start sounding jealous." The words are unbidden and Amarant knows better than to bring up old feelings. She shoots him a withering glare. He thinks he should apologize but he doesn't. "Kuja doesn't fawn over me."

Lani laughs a little, shaking her head. "Hah," she breathes. "You have absolutely no clue."

Amarant waves a hand at her, "Don't start talking about body language and watching Kuja, that barmaid already gave me that one."

"Yeah, she told me. I _knew_ you wouldn't get it." Lani laughs again, "You know what? I have no idea what's going on. Absolutely _zero_. I've been too busy worrying about whether or not that blade was poisoned or had a death curse on it to bother looking around for your attackers. And don't say I don't give a shit," she shakes a finger at him, "Of course I do. You're always going to be my partner, Ama', and besides, Kuja's been damned near breathing worry for you. Of course we'd pick up a bit."

Amarant watches Lani for a moment, curious. "Worried about me."

"Yeah."

"You."

"Is that so hard to believe?" Lani comes to the bed, sitting beside Amarant and looking at the floor. "I mean, just because I know you can handle yourself doesn't mean I don't worry. When you left with that monkey kid, I was worried you were going to die or do something stupid." She grins at him, "Which, you did – you went and played hero. Stupid Ama', you weren't supposed to realize you could do that."

"I didn't play hero," Amarant sighs, "Zidane did all of that. I just hung around because it was more interesting then going to the damned warehouse and looking for bounties and watching you get drunk off your ass."

"Oh, like _you_ didn't do the same."

Amarant smirks. Oh, of course he got blasted right along with Lani – he didn't want to bother having to control her while she was drunk. Besides, the girls seemed to come up to him in hordes when he'd be drinking. Lani always said that they felt safer because he was so out of his mind that he couldn't hurt anyone.

He never told her he could kill a man in twenty seconds or less after twenty drinks. He's timed it.

"What really happened, over there? I never got the full story, other than," Lani puts on a deep voice, crossing her arms, "I kicked some bad guy's ass so now we can drink again."

Amarant chuckles.

"You never collected bounty for that guy you killed, you know. If he was as bad as you said – what was it, 'blew up a world'? If he was so bad, he would've had a bounty." Lani frowns, thoughtfully. "You haven't collected a single bounty since then."

"I don't see the point anymore."

"Did that guy have a bounty? Did you really get it and not tell me? Because you always said that the only reason you would stop fighting would be if you got millions for it."

"There wasn't a bounty. He doesn't have and probably will never have a price on his head."

"Can't get a price if you're dead," Lani drawls.

"He isn't dead."

Lani stares at him and he sighs when she exclaims, inevitably, "You said you _killed _him!"

"I did. Zidane did. Zidane saw him die."

"You didn't?" Amarant shakes his head. "Maybe he was wrong? I mean, just getting word of mouth isn't the same..."

"...Zidane buried him. He was dead." At Lani's questioning stare, "They were brothers."

"...Oh...?" Lani sighs. "Maybe it's him who's-"

"It's not. Lani, don't go digging. Just trust me," Amarant stops, looking at Lani. She's a smart woman, she'll figure it out later, once this is over and he's away from Kuja and all of the all over again. He reaches out and touches her cheek, "Just trust me."

"...You know I trust you about as far as I can throw you," she jokes weakly. Amarant grins.

"Not very much, huh?" He shakes his head and stretches. "I'm still worn out."

"You should sleep more. I'll let everyone know you're feeling better." She gets up and he lays down, crossing his arms behind his head. Lani reaches the door, then hesitates after unlocking it. "Ama'?"

"Hn."

"...Kuja's more than you think."

He moves to look at her but she's already out the door, closing it after her. He sighs, closing his eyes. A few deep breaths, and he can hear the sea.

* * *

Amarant wakes up and there's loud singing coming from down below. Sunlight is seeping through the window and he realizes he's been asleep for a while. When he gets up, he can feel his muscles and he can think straight and walk straight – he must be better now. Stretching, he heads downstairs, in search of someone in charge so he might beat them into shutting up the singer. 

It's Arok, and he's cooking.

"I'm going back to bed."

Amarant turns and starts back upstairs, when Kuja's voice catches him. "We're leaving for Alexandria today." His voice is calm and cool, and completely different from before. The bounty hunter looks at the Genome curiously.

"All of a sudden?"

"It's best we leave as soon as possible. Besides, we have to let Lani do her work and discontinue imposing upon Janelle." Still cool, calm, and noble. It's almost annoying.

"'m gonna take y'all t' th' Gargan Roo. It'll take y' direct t' Alexandria."

Amarant frowns, looking at Arok, who's grinning stupidly. "The Gargan Roo hasn't been used in a very long time."

"Naw, naw, th' Queen ordered it open 'cos she ain't takin' airships. 's only fifty gil a ticket. 'N I needa go t' Alexandria, t' see my sister, so I offered t' take y'all."

"How _nice_." Amarant looks at Kuja and tries to gauge him, but it's impossible. He's wearing a solemn noble's mask and he's not going to take it off for Amarant of all people. He wonders what's happened to make Kuja suddenly stiff and regal, when just a few days ago they were drinking and dancing with cutthroats and pickpockets.

Lani looks at him but offers no answers, shrugging and looking back at her food. It looks good and smells good, so when Arok passes him a plate he eats without too much fighting.

"When you're packed, we can leave," Kuja tells him as he eats, and he nods – it's not like he's brought suitcases full of stuff. He wants to know what Kuja's doing with his stuff, but it's not his problem.

Kuja isn't his problem.

He climbs the stairs after eating and manages to find his old shirt, crumpled up on the floor and half hidden under the dresser. He gives it a long look and then pulls it on over the shirt Kuja gave him – he's too lethargic to change completely and besides, what's the point?

Kuja and Arok are waiting at the door. He gives Lani one long, final look, and they both realize that it's going to be a very long time until they see each other again. Janelle looks over the entire group with omniscient eyes. She knows the most about everyone here, Amarant figures, and she's probably not going to tell him any of it ever. Not that he'll need to know what Kuja's thinking, or how Lani feels about him, after they leave Treno.

He'll make a point not to come back.

Kuja only has a small satchel and the bounty hunter wonders where all of his soaps, perfumes, and candles disappeared to. He realizes that Lani's wearing those red earrings Kuja bought, so maybe most of his stuff was split between the two girls.

Once he gets to Alexandria, he'll probably be royalty. Zidane and Garnet will probably want him to stay at the castle.

They move through the streets easily – Arok's chattering on about something stupid, not noticing that neither Kuja nor Amarant are paying him any attention. Or maybe he does notice, but doesn't want to draw attention to the suddenly stiff air around them.

Arok gets three tickets and they move through another crowd to a new entrance to the Gargan Roo – they've opened up the tunnel so that it's accessible from the street. Kuja smiles blandly at a few people he knows and Amarant crosses his arms, stalking after him and Arok as they move through the tunnel, sloping and being lit by ample candles, to the main platform.

"Tickets, please," a small little guy asks them, and Arok gives them to him. "You'll need to wait for the next Gargant, sir."

"Why?" Arok asks, blinking. The man gives Amarant a worried look.

"The Gargant won't be able to carry all three of you. One of you will need to wait until the next one."

"Ah, 'kay, y'two go on 'n I'll see y' 'round, then." The smaller bounty hunter insists so Kuja and Amarant climb into the carriage – one of the five that are constantly moving along the tracks.

The Gargant is loose and they sway a bit as the beast moves forward, speeding up and slipping into the black tunnel. The only light is from the lanterns hanging at the four corners of the carriage – it feels like they're a single spot in the universe.

Kuja is sitting across from Amarant, hands in his lap, looking out into the black to their left. His hair glows silver in the lamplight, and his eyes...

Amarant needs to be much more drunk before he can look at Kuja like that.

"Once we reach Alexandria castle," Kuja begins, voice quiet and loud at the same time, "I'll be out of your hair."

"Yeah."

"I'll have Moko or one of his compatriots deliver your payment to the inn at Alexandria, unless you're planning on leaving sooner."

Amarant frowns. "Why are you paying me?"

Kuja finally looks at him and he looks so _different_. "Why wouldn't I? You've successfully transported myself to Alexandria, and have allowed me selected freedoms, considering my current state of affairs. I think that deserves due payment."

Amarant crosses his arms and frowns. This isn't how he wanted to split off from Kuja – with a paycheck and a smooth, faceless glance back.

"...Why are you talking like that?" he asks, and though it's not what he wanted to say, it works the same.

"...I..." Kuja takes a few deep breaths, looking at the black again, lips curving into a smile that doesn't seem happy at all. "If I try to use my emotions, I'm sure the result will be unpleasant. The last way I'd want my brother to see me is blowing up half of his lover's kingdom."

"...Hn."

"So, when we get to Alexandria, do you want to escort me to the castle, or would you prefer to just await your pay at the inn?"

Amarant looks at Kuja – really and truly looks – and doesn't see anything at all.

"I'll go with you."

He sees Kuja's eyes flicker, as if he was holding back something, and Kuja's shoulders slope slightly.

"Thank you."

Lights come up around them, swiftly, and they are in the sun. Alexandria castle looms over them and Amarant hears Kuja let out a deep breath.

"Thank you for traveling with the Gargan Roo," another small little guy drones, "We hope you had a pleasant journey. Please exit to your left."

Amarant and Kuja slip to the left and they stop, standing and facing the castle.

"Are you...?" Amarant stops. He doesn't care, his head insists, just ten minutes and he'll be free...

"Let's go."

They move past traveling salesmen and food stands, past nobles and peasants, people going about daily business and Amarant only just notices a kid playing the violin. He doesn't tell Kuja and they pass right by without a glance from the kid. His arm starts to ache but it'll go away, he's sure of it.

The castle is close and the guards are moving to let them pass. They're expected. The courtyard is alive with training for new royal guards and if Amarant looks closely he can see Steiner in the distance, issuing orders to his knights. He wants to laugh but can't find it in him.

Kuja stops at the steps and Amarant frowns, turning back to look and see why he's stopped.

Zidane stands there – totally decked out, he's a regular prince now – staring at Kuja in an amazed, bursting awe – surprise, shock, horror, excitement, joy – they're all there and accounted for.

"Kuja...?"

"Zidane."

The air crackles.

"I...I'm so... sorry." Zidane laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, looking awkward. "I'm... no good at reunions."

"Neither am I," Kuja responds, voice soft again and he's smiling – but it's still not quite happy.

"How are you...? I don't get, I mean... I can't understand..."

"Neither can I." Kuja goes up the steps and Zidane doesn't back away – they've got an understanding.

Amarant wonders what happened at the Iifa tree before Kuja died. Zidane never told him. Probably wouldn't tell him even if he asked.

"I'd like to request your help to solve such a mystery as my own second coming," Kuja speaks smoothly and nobly and oh, yes, Zidane's eyes flash with worry, because the Genome sounds so much like he used to. "If you and Queen Garnet are willing and capable of such."

"...Sure – I mean, I think we can. I don't know how much we can help you, but I'm sure Dagger won't mind."

"Thank you." Kuja turns and looks at Amarant directly, smiling that same stupid smile that doesn't even really count. "Again, thank you, Amarant, for escorting me from such a long distance."

Zidane doesn't say anything, but Amarant can tell he wants to. The bounty hunter shrugs, crosses his arms, and replies, "Hm. I'll be at the inn."

He turns, walks away, and refuses to look back.

And that is it.

* * *

This is not the end. 


	7. A Perfect Circle

A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. I would like to thank everyone who's reviewed – on FFN or on Gaia (you know who you are)! I hope you enjoyed this fic, and be aware that I can never leave things alone for long, so you might just get some sequel-ing action!

Thank you to Elendraug, Bright Eyes, The Ditty Bops, Squaresoft (who owns FFIX, did I mention that?), aaaaand everyone else! I LOVE YOU ALL.

* * *

Amarant Coral is drunk out of his mind. 

Not an incredibly uncommon occurrence, but still worthwhile to note. He's staying at a stupid little inn in a stupid little city where everyone's friendly and working and _god_ he wishes he was in Treno, drinking with Lani and flirting mercilessly with Janelle. He wishes that he was nowhere near Alexandria and that he had never seen Kuja, because now it's been nearly two times his normal drinking level and he can still remember how Kuja's eyes looked so unhappy and how his hair glowed in lamplight and how he danced extra close to Amarant even if his feet were big enough to crush his own if he made the wrong move.

He can still remember him ripping the roof off of the inn and begging Amarant to kill him because he didn't want to hurt anyone. He can still remember all of that after so much alcohol.

The door of the inn swings open and Arok stumbles in, singing a loud song in a broken, half sobbing voice, and almost immediately spots the other bounty hunter wallowing in his own drunkenness.

"She's _dead_!" he wails and immediately collapses into a chair at Amarant's table. He stares at the smaller man in confusion – who's dead, and why is he telling _Amarant_? Is he suddenly the kid's only friend?

"Who?" he asks despite himself, half-prepared for the sob story.

Arok sniffs and looks up, before waving at the bartender to get him something to drink. "Ma... I came t' see 'er 'n my sistah but when I got there... I've been writin' 'er fer three years 'n she been dead one o' 'em!"

Amarant doesn't know what to say, and even though the bartender gives Arok his drink and gives him a quick, "'m sorry," he has nothing to add. His mother died when he was young – he doesn't even remember her except for hummed lullabies and a few trips into the forest for tracking.

Arok doesn't want condolences. "I can't believe she'd not tell me! 'm 'er brothah, she shoulda told me when it 'appened!" He takes a long drink and then slams the mug against the table, sloshing ale around. "I trust 'er wi'm' life 'n she don't trust me wi'ma's death! Women suck!"

Amarant snorts and rolls his eyes. Arok doesn't notice the glares he's receiving and so he doesn't realize he's said something stupid.

"I hadda bad feelin' 'bout Alex'andr'a but I dinn't think it'd be _this_!"

Amarant lets Arok talk. He listens to the tiny guy sob about his father leaving when he was seven and his mother always looking out for him and taking him hunting and his sister making paper flowers but he'd pull out the petals and she'd cry – "best white magic 've ever seen," he says, "Goddit from ma."

He looks sick, almost, and Amarant sighs, finishing what must be his record breaking drink, and heaving the younger one up. "C'mon."

"Ma was all I got, Am'rant," Arok complains, "Why'd she get goin' so soon?"

Amarant doesn't know, so he stays silent and helps Arok up the steps, leading him to the room he's staying in. He lets the smaller guy have the bed – he doesn't try to steal it or apologize afterwards. It's a huge bed – Alexandrians know how to make an inn comfortable – and Amarant sits on the opposite side, stretched out and comfortable enough.

Arok sighs and mumbles, "'M never gon' trust 'er again."

"Yeah you will," Amarant drawls. "Sleep it off."

"Sleep off m'ma? Y'crazy."

He doesn't expect Arok to understand. He's young and forgetful and drunk, and when he wakes up he'll probably just cry and want to see his sister.

Arok holds back new sobs and Amarant sighs, closing his eyes. He can't remember missing his mother. He can't remember anything really.

"...'n th' lil' yellow bird wen' down, down, down, down... 'n th' lil' yellow bird coul'n't breathe..."

Amarant looks to Arok, who's curled up with eyes closed tight, and sighs again, because that's too depressing to be a lullaby for kids. Then again, he'd heard it so often it was nothing for him now...

"'n' th' lil' yellow bird wen' down, down, down down, 'n th' lil' yellow bird coul'n't..."

Arok's asleep. Amarant feels like he is too. He looks out the window and wonders if Alexandria castle is as quiet as it seems from the inn. Kuja's not out dancing or drinking; no, he's in a feather bed that doesn't have a lumpy mattress or a drunken kid sleeping in it; he's got his face washed with damned lavender soaps and he's got enough money to pay Amarant's bill a hundred times over.

Still, he can't help but think there's something wrong. Maybe it's just Arok's depression, but he can feel it in the air...

He closes his eyes and lets his mind rest, ignoring the ache in his arm.

* * *

Amarant awakes to find the inn shaking. Arok is sitting up, back ramrod straight, staring at the wall in front of them with wide eyes. 

"What's going on?" Amarant growls, and Arok shrugs numbly.

"Th' world's endin'," the boy mutters, "'n 'm gonna see ma."

Amarant grabs Arok and drags him out of the room, tumbling down shaking stairs and looking at the bewildered people around him, most still in night clothes.

"Everybody _out_," he commands, and they all listen because really, when someone like Amarant tells you to do something, you do it. He follows them out, still leading Arok, and looks at the castle, following the sounds of screams.

A major portion of the castle is untouched, but one corner is destroyed, ripped up and demolished. There's a glowing point from the center of the destruction and Amarant directs people away from the city, telling them to get safely away, because he knows what's going on.

He pushes Arok into the crowd and allows him to get swept away. He doesn't particularly like the kid but he doesn't want him to get killed. Three quick steps and a jump and he's climbing up the side of a building, clambering onto the roof and easily beginning a mad dash for the castle. He sees Zidane and Garnet being ushered out of the castle by Beatrix and Steiner – they call to him and Zidane looks beyond destroyed.

They think Kuja tricked him. They have no idea.

Maniacal laughter and Amarant feels something drop in his stomach. He leaps into the square and runs to the castle, because Kuja's laughter echoes around him and gives him reason. Kuja tricked him (_this whole fucking time and we've all been used_) and he can't get a feeling to hold on to. He keeps thinking _no, maybe I'm wrong_ but it won't work – too late, too late.

He grabs onto a stone and begins the climb. He has no idea how the Alexandria castle is laid out on the inside, but he knows where to go on the outside. His body flattens against the wall to avoid an errant fire spell, and the laughter grows. Kuja's screaming and laughing at the same time (_Kuja's gone insane_) and he's not going to live through this but he's going to sure as hell try.

"_You're trying to stop something you cannot!_" Kuja shouts (_oh god, he knows I'm here_) and Amarant tries to hide himself against the charred wall. "_I won't listen to you_!"

"You have no choice," another, soft young voice calls, "I've lifted you from the shrouds of darkness and given you the light again – you owe me this."

This isn't right. His final showoff was supposed to be with Kuja, amidst the flames and chaos of the Genome's insanity, but instead...

"_I can control it._"

"No, you can't – _I_ control it. I control _you_. And I'll use you to take this planet for my own."

Amarant clambers into the hole and is almost knocked back by the power emanating from Kuja. The tiny little kid with the violin stands before the monkey, staring down the red-furred lunatic with all the calmness of a snake. Kuja stares at the boy, only the boy, and doesn't even notice Amarant, who slinks forward and gets close enough to taste blood in the air.

"_I am not yours to use_," the Genome hisses, and Amarant can feel magic in the air. _Ultima_, he thinks, and he wonders if the boy can feel it.

"Oh, Kuja, you're _my_ toy. You're my black mage, and I'll use you how I _want_. Don't fight me."

Amarant holds his breath and ducks behind a broken wall.

"_I am **not your DOLL**._"

The blast knocks Amarant on his back, and he stares, dazed, at the sky as huge chucks of rock plummet towards the castle. They aren't directed at him so only one hits him, enough to knock him senseless. He hears screaming – people below are screaming for mercy; Kuja is screaming for blood; the boy is screaming for control.

The bombardment ends and Amarant struggles to his feet. Kuja stands – floats – over the boy, who's no longer so much a boy as a twisted old man.

"**_I am nobody's doll._**"

Kuja grabs the air and the man's body bends backwards. There is a scream, a snap, and silence.

"_I cannot control it_," Kuja speaks, slowly, looking up at the sky. "_Is this city evacuated?_"

He's speaking to Amarant and so Amarant answers. "Not yet."

"_Then many people are going to die._"

"Kuja," Amarant rasps, not flinching when blood red eyes look directly into his own dark eyes, "Nobody has to die."

"_He brought me back to use me_," Kuja begins, looking at the bent old man, "_And now, there's nothing for me to do. My time was up and he only added seconds to my eternal clock. Destroying myself will release a great deal of energy._"

"You don't have to destroy yourself," Amarant hisses, coming forward despite the energy. "You've held it this long."

"_It's not the same. It needs release. I am only energy..._"

Amarant chuckles. "You're not just energy," he drawls. Kuja gives him a severe look, and the bounty hunter shrugs. "You're bones and meat – not a lot of that, but still it's there – you're a crazy, monkey-tailed, snarky pretty boy who..."

How could he say it? He's finally starting to understand what Kuja _is,_ but how can he say it to Kuja himself?

"...who would dance with me even if I'd break your feet. You don't need to die."

"_I can't control it._"

"Take your time, calm down." He feels like he's soothing a wild animal – like he's calming himself down from his old rages. "Just don't hurt yourself."

Kuja glares almost literal daggers, hitting Amarant slightly with focused energy. "_You don't care_."

"Of course I do. Why else would I've put up with your ass for this long?"

"_I_..."

"Just calm down, you crazy monkey. I'll get you out of Alexandria so you can relax. No one needs to get hurt or die."

"..._You_..." Kuja's eyes flash and Amarant finds himself grabbing onto Kuja's arm. The Genome jerks out into the air, against Amarant's pull, and he holds on tight. "_You're going to die with me, then_."

"Kuja!" Amarant shouts, ignoring his aching arm and burning hands, "Do you want do die! Do you really want to die, with a new life at your feet!"

"..._I want to do what's best_."

"Don't give me bullshit answers, you fool – do _you_ want to _die_!" _You're grasping at air, Amarant Coral,_ he thinks, but he won't stop trying.

"..._No_...?"

"Then get a hold of yourself!" He feels wind and they're sinking slightly.

"..._What if I can't-_"

"What if you never _try_!"

Kuja's hair flashes silver and they freefall until suddenly Kuja stops, staring at the sky with flashing eyes.

"_I don't want to hurt people._"

"I know." And for the first time, Amarant _does_ know something about Kuja – he knows something for sure. Kuja doesn't want to hurt people – he got over that when he died the first time – why would he need to die again?

Silver hair and they fall again – Amarant breaks their fall and thankfully, it wasn't so high that he'd break his back.

The second he gains his bearings, he realizes Kuja's gone.

Amarant is on his feet and running towards the main gates of Alexandria – the ones that no one uses except for emergencies. He doesn't know where Kuja could go to or why he'd go at all – he sees a man and grabs him by the throat, dragging him up to eye level.

"Where did he go!" he snarls, and the man sobs.

"That way!"

He drops the man and runs in the direction pointed, shoving through people and pushing rocks out of the way, leaping over broken walls and he can see trees. The forest, he assumes, has been there for ages and is probably going to be there for a while – it's full of tall trees and bushes and wild beasts, and it's probably the first place he would hide if he wanted to run from Alexandria.

He passes through gates, sees Arok as he passes crowds of evacuated people; he sees Zidane and Garnet but they're looking at the castle – they must think he's dead.

Fine with him.

He's in the forest and it's so much quieter than the chaotic city. His footfalls turn silent and suddenly he's with his mother in the woods near his village, tracking a housecat that escaped from his neighbor's home. He can feel every breath of air that silently leaves him and he can feel the trees as far as ten feet away from him in all directions. He can see by the half-moon light and he can hear the wind moving leaves and heavy, muffled breathing of someone trying to hide from Gaia itself.

"I can hear you," he mutters, looking to his left at a tall tree. The breathing hesitates and then continues, quieter than before. "You might as well come out."

Kuja does, leaping onto Amarant and attempting, in the most primal way, to rip his throat out with his teeth. Amarant grabs his arms and twists them, trying to get the suddenly homicidal Genome from his neck; Kuja jerks forward and throws him into a tree. He lunges again and Amarant catches him, throwing them back into the center – last thing he wants is to knock his head on a tree and pass out. The Genome makes a noise and twists around – Amarant loses his footing and slips, landing on his back. Kuja slashes at him but misses his face by inches, and Amarant flips him over, grabbing his arms and avoiding the snapping teeth.

Kuja, effectively pinned, goes limp, and Amarant stares at the monkey, who stares back. "What in the hell is wrong with you?" he mutters. Kuja's hair is fanned out behind his head and it glows silver in the moonlight – his eyes flash.

Amarant is unprepared when Kuja slips an arm free, and can't stop the other as he grabs Amarant's shirt and jerks him roughly towards himself – their lips crash together and Kuja locks his arm around Amarant's huge shoulders.

_Body language, body goddamned language_, and Amarant suddenly realizes what the hell has been going on for the past couple of days. He should pull away, shout and fight, because he only chases skirts, goddamn it.

Kuja wears a skirt, Amarant remembers, and so he lets himself press against the Genome.

It's the perfect setting for this, really – the moon could be fuller and the ground could be softer and more comfortable, but Kuja's warm and their hands really fit well against each other's hips. Kuja doesn't ask, while Amarant feels full of questions, but it doesn't make a difference.

The moon is silent and the light is dim, but he can see Kuja's eyes and even if he couldn't, he could feel them watching him. Hands at his shirt and he lets Kuja sit up, crouching over the pale Genome like an animal.

"Gods help me," Kuja murmurs and pushes soft-firm lips against Amarant's dry, rough ones, "Gods help me, you're not fighting back."

"...This isn't fighting."

Kuja looks at Amarant for a long time. "What do you call it, then?"

"I wouldn't know."

Kuja traces his hands along Amarant's sides and lets Amarant push him back to the ground, covering his smaller body with his own huge one. He lets Amarant kiss him and in return Amarant lets Kuja's hands wander across shoulders and hips, lets him trace scars he's probably memorized.

Amarant has never been so sober after twenty drinks in his life. He feels Kuja against him and he can nearly taste the lavender soaps that he did, indeed, use that night. His hands tangle in Kuja's hair and unlike Amarant, Kuja doesn't hold back purring, arching his back and connecting them together.

He bites Kuja's neck and the fact that he lets Amarant do so amazes the bounty hunter. The ground is rough and so Amarant scoops Kuja up into his lap as he sits up straight, Kuja's legs draping over his hips and crossing behind his back. They move together soft and refined and reckless; he runs his hands across Kuja's back, and the Genome sighs against his mouth.

"...'m tired."

Amarant chuckles, looking down at the smaller guy and realizing that Kuja's tail is wrapped around his wrist.

"Sleep, then. What's stopping you?"

Kuja shakes his head, "What about the morning?"

"Fuck the morning," Amarant shrugs, "Who gives a damn?"

"Mm," Kuja slowly agrees, closing his eyes and making the most of Amarant as a pillow. The bounty hunter lays back on the ground, and Kuja purrs again.

"You're a damned cat."

"Mm, I prefer fox, but if that's what you'd call me..." Amarant laughs again and lets Kuja rest on him, arm over Kuja's waist and holding him against the bounty hunter.

He looks at the sky and the moon seems closer, fuller. Amarant takes a few deep breaths as he closes his eyes, and he finally gets to sleep.

* * *

The birds are chirping when Amarant wakes up. Sunlight hits his face through the leaves, and after a moment of no recognition, he remembers the night before and assures himself that Kuja's still quite soundly asleep on his chest – silver haired and not furry, thank god. 

"Knew y'd bed 'im fast."

Amarant jerks up and Kuja makes a pained noise, trying not to wake up even though everything else has. Arok leans against a tree, smirking in an easy, relaxed way that means Amarant's going to have to wait to punch him.

"What are you doing here?" the bounty hunter asks, and Kuja mumbles against his chest. In any other circumstances, Amarant wouldn't have let him sleep longer – if Kuja were anyone else, he would have already pushed him away with a rough insistence that nothing had been going on. But Kuja...

Kuja is the first for a lot of things.

"'m part o'a search party. They're all lookin' fer y'all."

"Let 'm look," Kuja groans, covering his eyes, "'m still sleeping."

"Hn... well, 'm prob'ly th' last one out 'ere – mosta th' others think yer both dead. Big battle 'n all, with th' castle all torn up."

"...oh," the Genome suddenly murmurs, turning to look at Arok in confusion, "It... I did...?"

"'S pretty off'n one side but no casualties."

"...Should've died up there," Kuja whispers.

"You're dead, 's far's most concerned. Y'both killed each other."

Amarant frowns, looking at the suddenly distressed Genome. Plans formulate in his head but all of them run into the same roadblock – Kuja almost killed a lot of people, and those people won't be forgiving him so soon. If they know he's alive...

"How much do you think the bounty will be for?" Amarant asks, "I didn't get a chance to see the damage."

"Mm, prob'ly twice yers, at least. Gotta nice start with'n nearly destroyin' Gaia like Zidane says."

"He _told_ them?" Kuja exclaims suddenly. Arok holds up his hands at the other's angry comment.

"Mm, he only said a lil', jus' 'cos everyone's been wonderin' who y'all are 'n why y' destroyed so much... He tried t'tell 'em y'd changed but with'n that attack..."

"High bounty, hn?" Amarant tunes back in enough to catch both Arok and Kuja's attentions. "A lot of people will be looking for you if we let them know you're alive."

"...So, what should I do, then?" Kuja asks, laughing bitterly, "You could turn me in for the bounty, and never have to work again."

"I'm not going to do that," Amarant immediately replies, "And anyone who tries to is going to have my fist in their face." He looks at Arok and makes sure the boy knows he's not exempt.

"So what do I do?" Kuja asks again.

Amarant frowns, and then nudges Kuja – the Genome stands and lets Amarant get up. The bounty hunter stretches and rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck and rubbing his beard.

"Go tell them what you saw," he tells Arok, who blinks in surprise. He elaborates, "You've seen us dead, obviously. Tell them you found us dead."

"Us?" Kuja exclaims, turning to look at Amarant, "What are you _doing_? You can't possibly want to be _dead_!"

"Why not? It'll be fine for a few months, and our bounties will die off. Then we can miraculously come back to life, like everyone seems to do nowadays." Kuja looks surprised. "What? Is it not a good idea?"

Kuja blinks, and then shakes his head, "Oh, no, it's actually rather brilliant." He grins coyly and adds, "Which is why I'm surprised you came up with it by yourself."

"Keep talking, kitten." Kuja flushes and Arok laughs, even when Amarant gives him a semi-severe look.

"Well, it looks like I'm going to be writing to two more dead people," the younger bounty hunter grins, "I'll tell 'em what y' wan'. Enny'ne y' wan' in th' loop?" He's asking about Lani. Amarant thinks for a moment.

"...I don't-"

"Lani needs to know," Kuja interrupts immediately, "I refuse to leave her in the dark like _you_ do," he pouts.

Amarant sighs. "Fine. Keep in touch with Lani, if you're going to try and keep and touch with us," he tells Arok. "We're going to have to be scarce on this continent."

"There's a few that we can visit," Kuja laughs, "It's not like we're going to have to go into complete hiding."

Arok shakes his head, still grinning. "Alrigh', two dead'uns comin' up. Say goodbye t'yer bounties, mates – see y'later." The broken-nosed bounty hunter slips through the trees and disappears from sight. Kuja looks at Amarant, frowning.

"Amarant."

"Wish you wouldn't roll the 'r' so much," the bounty hunter sighs, "What?"

"You can't possibly think we can get away with this."

Amarant chuckles, and pushes loose hair behind Kuja's ear. "You're thinking too much. Stop it." He heads off in the direction opposite of Alexandria, and Kuja follows quickly. "I know a village west of here where we can get an airship to the Outer Continent. It's a few days walk, but we can handle it."

"You look nearly excited about this," Kuja intones dully. Amarant shrugs.

"It's about time I had a vacation, I figure. Enough of the bounty hunting job." He looks around at the twittering birds and scowls a little, "And I'd like to at least get the hell out of this damned forest. I hate birds."

"Birds are symbols of freedom," Kuja drawls, "I like birds."

"Yeah, you would, you flighty damned cat."

Kuja laughs, suddenly, and pounces – quite characteristically of a cat – onto Amarant's back.

"You're just the bird I've been looking for, then," he purrs, and Amarant laughs, letting the Genome hang onto his shoulders. He's relieved, and Kuja's relieved, and the forest opens up onto a hill and they can see a good portion of the land laid out before them. He doesn't know what he's doing – he's _sure_ Kuja hasn't a clue either – but he's willing to try it out and see how it works.

They travel for a few hours before they start to feel hungry. Kuja starts to complain a little, but Amarant merely bats at him and tells him to wait. Opportunity's coming and such.

They hear noise to the east as they walk, and soon there's a huge commotion from behind them – they stop and turn.

A scraggly covered cart, decked out in bells and painted the most obnoxious shade of blue Amarant's ever seen comes jolting towards them, drawn by two large Chocobos. Pots are banging around and they can see two people sitting on top of the cart.

"Oh, what do you know?" Kuja exclaims, and Amarant suddenly recognizes the people as the two girls from the warehouses. They're singing a loud, annoying drinking song, and then the one on the left suddenly shouts and yells to the Chocobos, who come to an unsteady halt beside the two men.

"Hey!" the girl crows. She's decked out in a bright pink vest and her neck bends with the weight of her numerous necklaces. Her skirt is torn up – fashionably, Amarant assumes – and the black is stained with the same blue paint from the cart. Her partner is a stark contrast – equally as loud but wearing grays and black, with exaggerated black makeup. "We know you guys!"

"We know them?"

"Yeah, yeah, remember? Like, three nights ago, man!" The bright girl points, "They were the ones fighting!"

The dark girl suddenly remembers them and snaps her fingers, nodding. "Oh, yeah! You danced nice!"

"Where you headin'?" the bright girl asks.

"Dali," Amarant responds, because this could be opportunity.

"Oh, most excellent!" the girl cries.

"We're heading that way," the dark girl explains, "You want to hop a ride?"

Kuja looks at Amarant, who looks at the obnoxious blue cart in trepidation.

"Do you like it?" the dark girl asks, grinning.

"It's hooloovoo!" the bright girl squeals, "It's the most beautiful color in Gaia!"

"So, are you coming?" the dark girl leans over and peers at them through brown hair.

"...They're crazy," Amarant mutters. Kuja grins.

"We're coming."


End file.
